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xoxoxo,
LC

One Well Woman

Today, FINALLY, things seemed to start turning around for the better. The weather was beautiful, I felt like a ton of bricks was being lifted off of my chest, and even though there were a few little disappointments in my day, I had to stop and reflect at the end of the day--they actually could be interpreted as blessings.

I woke up at the crack of dawn this morning, did about a million and one things on my must-do list, and still managed to make an appointment for my well woman exam. I am about the only woman I know who actually likes going to the gyno. My doctor is not only one of THE most conscientuous women I know, her staff has got it TOGETHER. They know the answer to EVERYTHING. I feel like I'm a guest on the Dr. Oz show, so I make an actual list on a 3x5 card of every question I can think of. Of course, most of those questions go out the window the minute that speculum steals my virginity. I momentarily thank God that I wore sexy panties, and that my brand new lacies are draped over my pants on the chair next to the table. Then I start to think about it, and who the hell cares? My doctors are women. I doubt they really care, unless it's to think they're really cute, and run out and buy some for themselves. I also am thankful that I always make sure I am groomed and waxed and am very "Brazilian" from the waist down, even if I am Mexican at heart. Because really? If I was a gynecologist, or my boyfriend? I would be really effing happy with me. In fact, if I was my gyno, or my boyfriend, I would be sending ME flowers by the dozen.

All these thoughts are interrupted by the cold, slimy antiseptic gel. Honey, let me tell you. It is not exactly KY warming liquid; and the conversation that my doctor makes about vacationing in Newport isn't going to take away from the fact that there's a footlong Q-Tip inside of me. Seriously? What about all my questions? I knew I had some...what happened to them? Oh, who the hell cares. Ovary, shmo-vary. Barbara Walters couldn't remember her questions during an experience like that. Once your feet are in stirrups, you're pretty much done for.

Aside from the five minutes in the uncomfortable, unpleasant, ass on the edge of the table position we women all know and loathe, my day was pretty great, and that's how it goes in life; it's a series of ups and downs. But when you have faith, things start to turn around for the better. And if you're lucky, you learn to make the most of everything.

Even when you're in stirrups.

Livin' Like A Celebrity

So, one of the big confrontations I had with myself today was the realization that over the past several years of my life, I have failed to recognize that I am not, in fact, entitled to live like everday is a vacation. I'm not a celebrity. I'm not going to make a red carpet appearance everyday. And although the girls and I like to take photographs more than the paparazzi, we're not famous.

Therefore, I need to get my ass out of Bloomingdales when I am on vacation. I need to stay the hell out of Nordstrom unless I REALLY need makeup (and let's face it, I can probably use mascara from Target, I just prefer not to.) I also need to understand that my ladies lunches have become quite costly over the last year and that, whenever I feel lonely, or sad about something else that's missing in my life, I tend to get in the car, head out to a store, or go out for a glass of wine with the girls, or Starbucks becomes the meeting point to "catch up" with whoever I've neglected lately. What, we can't go work out together, or visit at home? No, because it always revolves around being "out." And when I'm not doing that, I'm spending money on gas to fill up my tank to drive to God only knows where.

I realize that the girls and I are NOT celebs and mega-stars, and we can't always be spending like we are, either. Eventually, we're all going to want to pay off our debt and retire, and that's going to require some restraint on our part. We are just normal, ordinary girls, going through the ups and downs of our lives, all in very different financial situations, but all with problems nonetheless. We all struggle from time to time to pay our bills and make ends meet, just like every American girl. But it doesn't help to get jaded by the media and believe that we can, or need to, live like a celebrity. Newsflash, girls! Chances are, for the most part? We can't!

So, here are some lessons I learned today, on that happy note:

Lesson #1: No more expensive lunch dates with everyone & their sister. Seriously? If you want to see me, you can go work out with me. I need six-pack abs much more than I need a $12 martini and a $15 Cobb salad, along with a $10 tip to the cute waiter.

Lesson #2: I don't need a new outfit for every "appearance" I have to make. Good God, I have a wardrobe so expansive, I can literally have a new outfit for everyday of the year without ever having to do laundry once. I am not Kristin Stewart, Kristin Bell, or Kristin Chenoweth. For fucks sake, my name's not even Kristin, my name is LC, and I am a shopaholic, not a celebrity, and I don't do red carpet appearances, I work a 9-5 job. Besides, I won't be going out much these days. I will be focusing on making my life better, not worrying about guys or any other BS. And unless they're going to help me alleviate stress or find a solution to my problems, they can erase my number from their phones, because I don't have time for their games, either.

Lesson #3: Good friends are hard to find, and even harder to keep. The ones who are true are going to stand by me through this hard time, and once I get through it, I'll find out who sticks around in the end, and I'll be a better person for it. If they can love me, even when we're NOT perusing the shoe department at Barney's, they're someone worth keepin' around.

To quote the semi-annoying bitches on my new least favorite show, Pretty Wild:
"And so it is."

Even If MY Voice Shakes...

A long time ago, I decided to start writing this blog because I was mistreated. I got ready one morning, slipped on my Charles David wedges, the strappy gold ones that coordinated nicely with my white, crisp cotton summer shorts and breezy, loose fitting light blue top with the gold detailing and Swarovski crystal adornments around the bustline from Sky Couture, (a favorite that I bought at Electric Ladyland); my tan was golden; my hair was highlighted, my bronzer was on, and my lipgloss was poppin', yo'.

That might have been more information than you needed, but I thought I'd give you a clear mental image of what I was workin' with.

I went to my salon at the time, Dolce, and the front counter girls were total bitches to me. Not only were they incredibly rude to me, even my hairdresser had to apologize for the comments they made, and they lost the little cardigan I had brought along with me in case it got cold, and didn't even apologize. I didn't respond by throwing a bitch fit. No, I didn't even get an attitude. That, my friends, was the beginning of the end.

It was the beginning of me taking shit lying down. It was the beginning of me, compromising myself, and what I knew was WRONG, so that I could make other people happy. It was the start of being lazy and allowing myself to be complacent and be the victim instead of being the strong, empowered bitch who stands up and says, "Oh hell to the NO you did NOT just do me wrong, I'm taking BACK my power and I will NOT accept being mistreated, used, abused, or disrespected."

I wasn't raised to be this pathetic girl who lets her life fall apart. I was raised to move forward on a road, not get caught up in a bump, or, in my case, a big freakin' pothole.

I'm in a major life cul-de-sac. Professionally, personally, financially. So, I'm using my blog as a portal for changing that for myself. I've used this as a diary of my shopping hits & misses; the things I love & hate, things that I rave about, things that work, and things that just never will. I plan to use this my blog, from this point on, as a way to share with you exactly how I'm digging myself out of this mess otherwise known as my life.

Surely, if I have issues, 10 million other people do, too. And if they do, their friends do. Why are more people not HONEST about this kind of shit? I hate when everyone thinks the solution to their problems is to be all 'self-help aisle, sunshine and flowers, life is just picture-perfect, I just caught some lemons, lets all make freakin' lemonade now,' about the whole thing. Just be real. Sometimes, life sucks. Sometimes, you hold your feelings in for so long, you want to scream, and cry, and you feel like you're bursting at the seams. Sometimes everything bothers you at one time and it just pisses you off, but you don't know WHO to talk to about it. And sometimes you feel almost GUILTY for feeling anything at ALL.

For anyone who's ever felt that way, but never felt right being brutally honest about it; for anyone who ever wanted to talk, but didn't have a voice; for anyone who wanted to admit they had a problem, and just wanted to blow the lid off that bitch and blow that shit wide open, this is for you.

We're going to solve my problems, and your problems, one day at a time.

And in between, I'll talk to you about the things I still love...like fashion, beauty, and shopping.

Even though, since one of my major life problems happens to be the D word right now (DEBT, not DICKHEADS, although I have problems with a few dickheads right now, too) I will not be shopping for quite some time, I will still feature all the best of the best on Dreaming in Dior, because you might as well enjoy all the creme de la creme, where shopping, beauty, and style is concerned.

So, topics we will cover...and the issues I'll work on:
--FINANCIAL MESSINESS: (i.e.--paying for all the shoes, Starbucks, 5-star hotels, Egyptian cotton bedding, expensive perfume, diamond earrings, & Amazon.com purchases I made over the past 5 years, as well as the HOSPITAL BILLS and MEDICAL EXPENSES I had to PAY FOR MYSELF because my EMPLOYERS did not reinstate my HEALTH INSURANCE.)
--HEALTH: Getting rid of these horrible migraine headaches so I no longer have to take these awful pills they've prescribed me, because I no longer can taste food. And I? Love cooking and baking more than Julia Child. One way might be for me to find something to do daily that actually makes me happy and joyful again.
--PERSONAL: Being honest about what I want. After I read the book "Eat Pray Love," the one thing that resonated with me was that she acknowledged that she had this emptiness inside herself and a void that needed to be filled. So often we KNOW what that void really IS. I actually KNOW what mine is. I just need to fill it...

If the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, consider this my first.

At least I can say I'm beginning my voyage in really cute shoes.

Sometimes You've Just Got To Get Away With the Girls

It's safe to say that 9 out of every 10 American women would claim to be THE biggest Sex and the City fans, ever. I am one of the millions of women who own every season of Sex and the City on DVD, who stood in line to watch the movie when it came out in theatres, and who are anxiously awaiting the release of the second movie, which will hit theatres in May. Not only am I a huge fan of Patricia Field, the legendary costume designer and fashion authority who outfitted Carrie and the girls and created looks that launched a thousand shopping trips, I am also working on a project about Sex and the City (more details to come at a later date--after I finish it. I don't like to start things and not finish them. It is a major pet peeve of mine, and unfortunately, seems to be happening to me a lot more in recent times.)

In two months, we will all be treated to a bonafide 2 hour fashion show with Carrie, Charlotte, Miranda and Samantha...so dust off your martini glasses, girls, because this is a date you simply can't stand up.

Fendi For the Label Whores in All of Us

It's no big secret that I'm a label whore. A few years ago, when I was deciding what type of car to purchase for myself, April & I were looking online at different models. Of course, we completely disregarded the list of reliable, practical, dependable cars that my Dad, the mechanic (read: expert/professional) had made for me. I was much more interested in getting her second opinion on chic, stylish vehicles that I could scoot around town in, preferably with a nice label attached to the car.

"Buy a Benz," April recommended. "It's all about the label," she said.

I ended up buying a less expensive vehicle with a great warranty, but my love of labels still persists in other areas today. Even though I might buy generic for some things, I will admit to enjoying the flash of a little label appeal every now and then, providing it's not overkill.

It's no wonder, then, that I loved these Fendi Zucca slingbacks, which are perfect for work-to-evening transitioning, and they dress up even the simplest $5.00 cocktail dress. With a label like that all over your feet, you'll have a status symbol attached to your toesies while also dressing up what you've already got hanging in your closet. Talk about a style revamp.

To pick up a pair of Fendi slingbacks for yourself, visit Neiman Marcus stores near you, or NeimanMarcus.com. These heels were $645, no small price to pay, but definitely well worth it for those of us who are self-proclaimed label whores.

Dear Megan Fox...

Dear Megan Fox,

I heard today that you went on record saying you've only had two sexual partners in your life. Look, girl. I want to go on record saying that I am all about people learning to mind their own f*#@*%g business, okay? So I'm not trying to get all Mitt Romney on your ass, and start judging you for the things you do behind closed doors. You wanna partake in big wild orgies? Hey, be my guest, sweetie. I for one am not a conservative, I'm not even a big fan of single strands of pearls, or the Ralph Lauren clothing section at Macy's, or Brooks Brother's suits.

Back to my original point, Megan Fox. And I do have one, by the way. I think you're a pretty girl, so I won't take that away from you. Thank God you're pretty, because you're not all that smart. So why on earth would you feel compelled to lie to the press about how many people you've slept with? Why even bring it up at all? Who's business is it anyway? Secondly, when one of them happens to be Brian Austin Green, the only two people in America you're really making jealous, are me, and his baby's mama, Vanessa Marcil, because I've had a major crush on David Silver since 90210 when he was anxiously awaiting the day when Donna would let him pop her cherry. Evidently, you've been pulling the same shit with him. What's up with Brian Austin and these pseudo-virgins? Just give it to him already. I mean, if I had lived in 90210 instead of this bullshit 85273 poor excuse for a hometown my parents raised us in, I wouldn't have been the last American virgin in high school, that's for sure. Brian Austin, you and I would have been the toast of Beverly Hills.

I also have to say to you, before I end this note, that I think it's tragic that you feel compelled to lie about your "number" but that you're not admitting to being a lesbian. Look, I'm 100% about the men, I love men and all the complications and drama that comes with them. So I happen to be a straight woman. But I have plenty of gay friends, and I appreciate and support their lifestyle and choices.

That being said, there's nothing I hate more than gays and lesbians who are so afraid to come out of the closet that they stay in there like a Prada jacket from three seasons ago. Come out, already, before the moths start to eat you. (Literally, and figuratively.)

Megan, there's a reason you've only admitted to 2 sexual partners, honey. It's because the rest of them? Were women.

Miss Fox, come out, come out, wherever you are!

Sincerely,

LC

Miss Cyrus Gets It Right

A few months back, I wrote a blog about Little Miss Cyrus, because she was busy straddling stripper poles in cowboy boots all over the continental United States (or, on an awards show.) I wasn't the only one who found this problematic. (Hey, if Billy Ray has his head up his ass, someone has to comment on her teenage stripper antics.)

All the negative press she received after that performance definitely went to the wayside after her appearance on the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Miley looked stunning in this gown, and, regardless of what Joan effing Rivers might say otherwise, I thought she looked put together, classy, and age-appropriate.

Miley, stay off the stripper poles, honey, no matter what party in the USA is goin on, we don't need to see teenagers dancing like Demi Moore in Striptease, thanks. Hire a stylist, and keep wearing gowns like this one. You'll be sure to stay off the "worst-dressed lists." Major kudos for this red carpet thumbs-up, though.

xoxo,
LC

P.S.--Seeing as how your Dad once wore a mullet as his signature look, you should never, ever take fashion advice from him. Just sayin'...

I Just Kicked You to the Curb...In My Red High Heels.

I realize I write a blog about fashion, shopping, beauty, and style. But the one lesson I've learned above all, ladies & gentlemen, is that NO woman can truly be beautiful unless she loves herself first. That means, respecting herself enough to be HONEST and REAL about what she needs, wants, and deserves. No pair of Manolo Blahnik strappy sandals, no Chloe handbag or Gucci sunglasses or Hermes scarf will make you feel completely whole unless you know who you are, and unless you put on your best pair of heels and walk in the direction of what you want. Those who choose to follow you, and walk beside you, and hold your hand, need to know what you're worth, too. And if they don't, then by all means, baby girl...kick 'em to the curb.

In your red high heels. ;)

HERE IS LC's "Song of the Week", a tribute, to any girl who is too afraid to ask for what she wants. Whenever you feel like that, girl, remember the newest pair of Jimmy Choo heels. If one Neiman Marcus won't hook a sister up, there are PLENTY of other designer retailers out there who will. ;) And, FYI, yes, you're WORTH it.

Baby I’ve got plans tonight
You don’t know nothin’ about
I’ve been sitting around way too long
Trying to figure you out
But you say that you’ll call and you don’t
And I’m spinning my wheels
So I’m going out tonight
In my red high heels

I’m gonna call up that old boyfriend
You said still has it bad for me
I’m gonna take him into town
Flaunt him around for everyone to see
Well you said so yourself
You know the deal
Nobody holds a candle to me
In my red high heels

Well you can watch me walk if you want to, want to
I’ll bet you want me back now don’t you, don’t you
I’m about to show you just how missin’ me feels
In my red high heels

All those games you tried to play
Well they ain`t gonna work on me now
I put up a barbed wire fence
around my heart
Baby just to keep you out
Well you thought I’d wait around forever
But baby get real
I just kicked you to the curb
In my red high heels

Mr & Mrs Marc Anthony on the Red Carpet

Jennifer Lopez has always been one of my favorite celebrities. I can honestly say that if I have achieved any successes in my life, her influence, and her example of hard work and what can happen when you chase your dreams, probably pushed me to want more for myself and my life than any other actress. One of the things I love about JLo is that she always does what she wants, regardless of what others may think; she follows her heart even when she might get chastised for it.

So when she married Marc Anthony, and everyone said, "What is she thinking? She's too pretty for him!" or, "JLo is a homewrecker! Marc already had a wife and children at home, and he was running around with Jennifer all this time! What an asshole! What a whore!" The truth is, I was happy for them both. Jennifer and Marc were not only very close friends, they motivated each other professionally, and he was there to help her through every one of her breakups and broken hearts and divorces. They belonged together, regardless of what the haters had to say about it.

When they showed up at the Oscars this year, dressed to the hilt, looking fab, I couldn't have been happier. And though Jennifer might receive some negative press for her dress choice, this gown looks incredible on her, and her hair made her look younger and graceful. Not to mention, Marc looked handsome next to her...and they looked happy, which is what matters most.

I once read a quote from Jennifer Lopez in InStyle Magazine, where she said, "I'm in love with being in love." Well, love certainly suits Mrs. Marc Anthony just fine, because she, and Marc, stole the spotlight at the Academy Awards. Hopefully we will see many more films to come from JLo, and we'll see Marc, right by her side.

Shout with GLEE

I don't keep up with many TV shows that run during the week. (Somehow or another, I managed to get hooked on Desperate Housewives and Brothers & Sisters, as well as the new 90210, probably because Kelly Taylor is still on the show--Kelly was the one I always loved the most on the original 90210. I always love the incredibly flawed women on TV shows.) But getting back to the original topic at hand, the likelihood that I will get hooked on a TV show that runs Monday through Friday is not high.

So it's no surprise I had no idea what my friends were referring to when they were talking about "Glee." When I saw this girl on the red carpet, however, I thought to myself, "Now there's one girl who is not a hot mess...on or off the red carpet." She looked great in a modern, trendy, yet classy little dress, and was tasteful, yet eye catching.

I think Lea Michele has many years ahead, not just on this TV show, but others, and plenty of red carpet events to attend. And if she continues to wear clothing as gorgeous as this dress, she will defintely make everyone shout with glee.

Fashionable Food for Thought

LC's Quote for the Day:

“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say and not giving a damn.”
– Gore Vidal

An Open Letter to Lady Gaga...

If I was sending a fax to Lady Gaga, it would read:

Gaga,

Can I call you Gaga? Or Lady? What should I call you? Anyway, moving along, I applaud you for always having such an avante-garde style and innovative fashion sense. But this? Is just ridiculous. Exactly what were you attempting to prove? You look like a space age Glenda the Good Witch. I want to set you up with Marilyn Manson, so you can play dress up and pretend its Halloween every week.

Next time, for your next awards show, please try to avoid looking like you stepped out of a spaceship, or, like you did a few months back, like you just painted your face red and tried to look like you escaped from hell.

Sincerely,
LC

LC & Imelda Marcos...Great Minds Think Alike

"I did not have three thousand pairs of shoes. I had one thousand and sixty.”
--Imelda Marcos

(LC's Quote for the Day...not ironically, my Dad used to call me "Imelda" when I was a teenager, because I always spent my hard-earned money on shoes. Now he had to build me an entire ROOM to store all my shoes, wall-to-wall, while I live at their house, until I can move out. My Mom is anxiously awaiting the day I come home and either say, "I'm moving out on my own, because I got a new job" or "I'm moving in with my boyfriend!" I think she'll have better luck with me moving out on my own at this point.)

My Favorite B-Words: Brides, Baskets, Bridesmaids, Bling (not necessarily in that order.)

Being a bridesmaid is a big freakin' deal.
For those of you who've never taken on that responsibility, you don't know what I'm talkin' about. So I'll start out, by toasting to bridesmaids everywhere.

Your day will come, my sisters in the struggle.

Until that day, it's all about your friend. Yeah, her. The bride.

There's a reason why brides turn all 'Bridezilla' status, and go apeshit over ridiculous things like little napkins with their names on them, and what color of chocolate covered almonds to throw in tiny little paper boxes that nobody really opens (unless they're truly bored to tears, or the food sucks.) (Face it, the only bitch who notices the shit on the table is your pesky Aunt Imogene who has not had a date since 1972.) But try and convince a bride of that, and you'll be gettin' dirty looks for weeks.

Still, we all admit that planning a wedding? It can be a real bitch.
(That's the b-word that nobody wants to use.)

I attended the Phoenix Suns game this weekend, and also, happened to make it to the 'Brides and Baskets' festival that was celebrated at US Airways Center. My friend, Rebecca, needed moral support and a friend to accompany her, so she could check out more wedding vendors, and so I joined her.

Even though I'm not getting married right now, I had the best time, and got to visit with vendors from L'Auberge Sedona Resort and Hotel/Spa, Maggiano's Restaurant, Sandals Resorts, and all the local venues that host weddings. The Wedding Chronicle was also one of the sponsors, and I got to express my unbridled love for the magazine, and explain to the publisher exactly why I run to AJ's every time a new issue is released on the newsstands. The Wedding Chronicle is to LC, what Playboy is to Tiger Woods.

Now, if only Robin Lopez would ask me to marry him at a Phoenix Suns game. That would make it all worthwhile.

Robin, I did cheer for you, honey. Good game. By the way, I'm available, and I already have wedding vendors alllll picked out. All I need is the ring. That's the only finger without any bling, and frankly, it's feeling a little neglected, Lopez.

If you're getting married, or, always a bridesmaid, never a bride, check out The Wedding Chronicle for the creme de la creme on valley weddings and wedding vendors. It is a fabulous little magazine, and basically, my version of porn.

Driving Miss DVF

"I always knew the woman I wanted to be — I knew I wanted to be a woman who was independent, a woman who was in the driving seat, a woman who didn’t need for the man to decide.”
--Diane Von Furstenberg

Not only is Diane Von Furstenberg one of my favorite designers, she has created a fashion empire by following her instincts and being gutsy and taking risks. At this point in my life, I need to follow her example, be a stronger woman, and remember the young girl I used to be...full of ambition, talent, and initiative. Ladies, get out of the passenger seat and start taking control of the wheel, because we're the only ones who can move ourselves forward, and on a road that works best for us.

Cheers, To My Friends

"No matter who broke your heart, or how long it takes to heal, you'll never get through it, without your friends." --Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

A Shout Out...
To all my friends who are patient enough to listen to me bitch about my problems...
Who have held my hair back while I purge the mass quantities of alcohol I've consumed that night...
Who gave me the guest bedroom when I needed a place to stay, or an escape...from whatever, or whoever...
Who reassure me that I'll get through anything, and that I deserve more...
And the friends, who see the things I want the most in life
And encourage me to reach for them.
You're amazing.
And today, I just wanted to say thank you.
xoxo,
LC

A Toast to Valentines Day

For as far back as I can remember, I've loved Valentines Day. Maybe it's because I'm such a girly girl, and I love making homemade Valentines Day cards and mailing them out, snail mail status. Maybe it's because, despite my cynicism about love and dating these days, I am a true romantic at heart: I am actually one of those women, like the Jennifer Lopez's and Elizabeth Taylor's of the world, who are in love with being in love. I get over one beau or one bad boy or one broken heart and jump right into something new, five minutes later, and put my heart right back out there again.

It can be emotionally exhausting.

As a kid, I loved getting Valentines. I remember in 4th grade, I had THE world's BIGGEST crush on a boy who just would not like me back. At least, not in the same way. We did homework together, and sometimes, I'd let him look over at my spelling test to get the right answers. But he never really reciprocated the affection.

It could be because, in 4th grade, I got braces and had a bob with a perm. I look back now, and I am mortified.

Even still, this kid ended up doing some time later in life, and he also never grew past 5'4. So I figure, the universe unfolded as it should have.

That early rejection may have scarred me in some small way...I'm still somewhat afraid of rejection, as are most women. But on Valentines Day, I can't help but feel a little hopeful that maybe love is waiting, right around the bend.

The past two years, I haven't had a Valentine. Sure, I was romantically involved with people (if that's what you want to call it) (I call it dysfunctionally involved with people) but nobody was sending me a dozen roses.

This year, one of my dearest friends, Ashley, and I decided to jump in her SUV and drive up to Sedona for the weekend. This is actually our second annual girls trip. Last year, three of my girlfriends and I went to San Francisco for a long weekend on Valentines Day. We hit up plenty of bars and clubs, and had the time of our lives.

Jessica Biel and Jennifer Garner in the movie Valentines Day? Yeah, they got their inspiration from us.

Last year, I remember waiting for my flight out to San Fran to meet my friends, and I was sitting at an airport bar, having a rum & coke, tears flooding my eyes because the man I was in love with, told me the same day, "Just so you know, I'm going to make an appointment to have a vasectomy."

These are not words a woman wants to hear when she's emotionally involved with a man. Just in case you fellas were planning on using that spiffy opener.

They are definitely not words a woman wants to hear on Valentines Day weekend.

My girlfriends made the weekend so fun, I felt like I had forgotten all about him by Monday. Of course, he was waiting when I got back home, and all the drama ensued, but for one weekend, on the day when the world celebrates love, I realized, I had all the love I needed.

I had friends who loved me, for exactly who I was, and most of all...
I loved myself.

And at the end of the day, when you've got that love, everything else falls into place, too. Including new and improved Valentines.

Happy V-Day, to all my loves out there.

"Love is the one shocking act still left on the planet." -Ashton Kutcher, Valentines Day

I Heart Valentines Day

Ashley and I went to see the movie "Valentines Day" today in Sedona. We of course loved it (what's not to love about a movie with so many hot guys in it?) I will say, however, that I was incredibly disappointed by Dr. McDreamy. A handsome doctor who cheats on his wife and lies to his mistress is just not how I wanted to think of Patrick Dempsey.

The movie was adorable, but how many texts, BBM's, and emails did I receive saying, "I just saw this movie, and Jessica Biel? Sooo you, Lorraine."

It must have been when she said:

"I can understand why I'm alone on Valentines Day. I'm neurotic. I am. The closest relationship I have? Is with my BlackBerry. Thank GOD it vibrates."



Our friend Rosemarie text messaged Ash during the movie to say the pinata scene was sooo reminding her of Ashley and I, on vacation, in Sedona. Lovely. If we wind up at a nice little Indian bistro sometime in the next two days, I'll be sure to alert the press.

It's an anti-Valentines Day party you will NOT want to miss.

All my single ladies, all my single ladies...

Enjoy Valentines Day, go see this movie, and regardless of your romantic status, have a love-filled day.

Even if it's with your BlackBerry.

xoxo,
LC

LC in Wonderland

When I was a kid, I absolutely loved the movie "Alice in Wonderland." Since then, I've heard many people say that it makes no sense, that Lewis Carrol must have been tripping on acid or smoking weed or something else to dream up the plot for Alice in Wonderland and all the other books. I don't know about all that, but it's been my favorite for well over 20 years, and I've been looking forward to the Tim Burton version that will be in theatres March 5th.

Since I also happen to be a makeup lover (duh) this Urban Decay palette of snazzy new shadows, which is a tribute to Alice in Wonderland, and named in its honor, is a collection of gorgeous hues and high pigmented colors that you can accent your eyes with.

With shadow this fab, you'd put the Mad Hatter to shame.

Pick up your own Alice in Wonderland Urban Decay compact at an Ulta store nearest you, or Sephora, or online at www.urbandecay.com. Alice in Wonderland hits theatres nationwide March 5th.

Cowgirls Don't Cry

I am patiently awaiting the month of May.
Not only will I officially be out on summer vacation, I will get to go to the Brooks and Dunn concert in Phoenix, at Cricket Pavilion.

Brooks and Dunn has helped me through plenty of broken hearts, and songs like "Straight Tequila Night" put me back on track again, even if I had just ingested half a bottle of Patron. "She's Not the Cheating Kind"? Pretty much my anthem, babe.

What will I wear to the concert? Well, if I keep working out and get my gams in great shape, I'll be wearing my cowboy boots with some little denim shorts. I will hook me a hot cowboy and enjoy the music that made me stronger.

Hopefully bloggers everywhere will not do to me as they did to Jessica Simpson, and say that I look fat. FYI, the poor girl is a size 6. Cut her some slack. She dated John Mayer's dumb ass. I think the girl's had enough trauma for one year.

For tickets, showtimes, and locations, visit www.ticketmaster.com. I'll see you there...look for the crazy chick in cowboy boots and a hat who's a little tipsy. At a country concert? Yeah, that was real specific. ;)

Do As The Romans Do

A movie with Josh Duhamel?
Sign me up for that one.

Not only is this luscious hunk of love in the new movie, "When in Rome," his costar, Kristen Bell, is outfitted in some pretty cute little outfits. Case in point? This work appropriate, professional, pulled together look--one part menswear, one part 'let me get Josh Duhamel to fall in love with me.'

Ohhh, to be in love in the movies.

Fergie-Ferg, you are one LUCKY lady.

Go see "When in Rome" for yourself, in theatres everywhere. The storyline may be a little predictable, but hey, most chick flicks are. No matter what you think of the plot, you can check out Kristin's wardrobe, get some style inspiration, and most importantly, get all hot & bothered by Josh Duhamel's sexy ass.

One Special Pair

Some inspiration for all my fashionistas for the day...
From the character who launched shoe addictions everywhere, and convinced women all over the world that buying shoes that were the cost of a car payment was a worthwhile hobby.

(I'm not talking about ME, silly. I'm talking about Ms. Bradshaw. Although, I would probably be guilty of convincing women everywhere to buy really expensive shoes, too. Hey, we may as well stimulate the economy, one pair of Brian Atwood heels at a time.)

xoxo,
LC

My White Soul Sister

Before I even became remotely addicted to watching Chelsea Lately, I read "My Horizontal Life," Chelsea Handler's first memoir, and felt so much better about my dating life and history with men, I started to weep like a widow at her dead husband's funeral (after finding out he's left everything he had to his brother, Carl, from Minneapolis.) (Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic. Still, I cried.)

I cried because it made me laugh so hard, tears sprang to my eyes, and surprisingly, I didn't laugh so hard I peed in my pants, because considering my caffeine intake for the day surpasses my body weight, it coulda happened, people.

Chelsea Handler probably helped me get through when I was cooped up inside my Mom's house for weeks on end after I was hospitalized this past year after having surgery. She would make me crack up, hysterically, and I'd forget any of the worries I had, at least while she made fun of Lindsay Lohan's kaslahpas.

But what really struck a nerve with me was when she declared on national television that she only had one fully functioning ovary.

Holy shit, I thought. This crazy bitch really IS my white soul sister.

Not only do we both say incredibly inappropriate things at all the wrong moments, not only do we both criticize celebrities, our coworkers, ex-boyfriends, and family members openly and unabashedly, sprinkling in hearty helpings of the "f" word every now and then, not only do we both love midgets and Belvedere Vodka and counting calories and Hot Pockets, and not only do we talk about things like camel toes in front of anyone who will listen, we also both are...are you ready for this, people?

Reproductively challenged.

So to all the bitches out there who whisper behind my back and wonder if I'll ever have a kid; or be able to, for that matter; to all the bitches who whisper behind my back because I'm a loud-mouth, opinionated single woman with only one ovary, this is what I have to say to you, ladies.

If Chelsea Handler can make it, so can I.

Although the only small person I may be able to adopt, or mother, for that matter, is Chuy Bravo's younger brother. And who knows if he's a midget? But hey, I always wanted a vacation in the Mexican Riviera, so at this point? Who cares.

I'm looking forward to the release of Chelsea Handler's newest book, Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang, which will be available at Barnes and Noble retailers nationwide, Amazon.com, and Borders Books and Music in March. Also, stay posted for Chelsea's Book Tour, which will be in a city near you. Hopefully I can get tickets to the Phoenix or Las Vegas shows. I have to show my white soul sister that she has my full support. And trust me, girl, when you talk as much shit as YOU do? You need a Mexican girl like me on your side.

Shoes? Shoes, I know.

LC's Quote of the Day:

"With all due respect, Ingrid, men? Men, I may not know.
But SHOES? Shoes, I KNOW."
--Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

Making the Leap

The movie "Leap Year," was somewhat disappointing (and I'm a chick flick fanatic, and love story junkie) (I feel as though chick flicks have both enlightened and ruined my feelings towards love, all at the same time.) It doesn't matter if you've got cute guys in the film, or if the leading lady also played a part in another movie that really was wonderful in the same year, if the plot isn't so great, the movie has lost me.

The one thing that did hold my attention was the super adorable little ensembles that the costume designer outfitted Amy Adams in thoughout the movie. Even if she was knee deep in mud, or frolicking in the rain, totally neurotic, she managed to look very sleek and sophisticated...I'm talking cute pencil skirts, cardigans, and gorgeous red hair, not to mention, a Louis Vuitton suitcase that of course makes any $4 skirt from a thrift store look like you purchased it on a whirlwind trip to Milan.

Go see Leap Year for yourself, before it's too late, or...wait until it comes out on DVD, save a few bucks, and run out and put it towards the cost of a new fitted cardigan like the one Amy Adams wears in the movie. Happy movie watching, and of course, as always...happy shopping, dolls.

Gorgeous, Green, & Saving Some Green: Gotta Love It

One of my very favorite students received this book as a Christmas present from one of my other very favorite students, her BFF. Since both girls are very eco-friendly chicas, and both concerned about saving the planet, doing what's good for the earth, and being health conscious, (as I try to be) I had to pick up this handy-dandy little save the planet guide to livin' la vida green on Amazon.com.

The best price? It not only helped me save the planet, it saved me some cash by buying it on Amazon. Saving some green, while thinking green.

Nothin' wrong with that.

Be gorgeously green, and pick up a copy of this awesome book for yourself today online at www.Amazon.com or at Barnes & Noble retailers nationwide.

Feels Like Home to Me...

If giving up my shoe addiction would equal me, getting to move back into my OWN home again, and redecorate,(preferably in this color scheme, in a design theme similar to this one) with all new furnishings and accessories for the home, and set foot in Pottery Barn, Crate and Barrel, and Z Gallerie with the same enthusiasm I once had when I lived in my own home...

...then by God, my feet will just have to learn to live without every pair of shoes that enters the doors of department stores everywhere.

I'm homesick.
For a home of my own, that is.

It's Complicated. (How Many Times Have I Said That This Year?)

How much did I LOVE the movie "It's Complicated"? Meryl was wonderful, of course, and as I may have mentioned before on Dreaming in Dior, I absolutely love everything she does as an actress. She is hugely talented, and since I used to DREAM of becoming an actress myself (and nearly pursued it, at the age of 18) I've always admired her career. Everything she touches turns to gold.

I think what I loved even more about the movie "It's Complicated" is that it was so honest, and so frank. Alec and Meryl were hilarious, and if you're in the mood for a movie night with your girls, or a super cute date movie, go see this one.

I would've gone back to the movies to see it a 2nd time, but it's almost Oscar season, and since I didn't become an A-list actress, I figure I still have to stay informed about what's going on in Hollywood. I live vicariously through the red carpet.

The Runway Stops for No Woman

After putting up with a lot of stress and turmoil not only at work, in my family, or in my personal life, here is MY thought for the day. Just remember, whether it's coping with the loss of a job, a death, family obligations, or a breakup, we all fall down. (Some of us, in true dramatic fashion, fall down on runways.) (My friends who remember my pageant/runway fiasco where I tripped and fell in 6 inch heels practicing on the runway, the day before school started at ASU in Fall of '02, remember how mortifying that was for me.) But what are you gonna do? Pick yourself up again, dust off your Swarovski crystal studded shorts and your Dolce and Gabbana jacket, and keep on walkin', because life stops for no one, and haute couture? Definitely keeps on goin, with or without you, sister.

Put your big girl panties on, and deal with it.
And maybe, just maybe, like Carrie Bradshaw, they'll be designed by Dolce and Gabbana.

Faith, HOPE, and Skin You'll LOVE

I have been worried about aging before my time since the ripe old age of 8.
Actually, 8 years old was when I became full-on neurotic, worrying about everything from counting calories to whether or not I should shave my legs for the very first time to which diet was better and how many calories I burned during a workout or aerobics or dance class.

I am every therapist's worst nightmare, I know.

Still, I have been diligent in my quest to look and feel absolutely magnificent as time wears on. I want to be like those women for whom the clock seems to stop at 25. Of course, I'm right past 25 (give or take a few years) so I feel like I'm probably in pretty good shape, all things considering.

And while other parts of my body (like my liver, for example) may not be so young and vibrant, because of my bad habits (alcohol, diet pills, and diet coke carried me through much of my twenties, sad to say) my skin, from head to toe, has always been cared for.

You would think I have Benjamin Button syndrome, or something, and that I am fighting the clock desperately, because I am a skin care GURU. I study every new trend that comes out, every new beauty frontier that some dermatologist explores, and I'm a HUGE fan of Sephora. Kate Sommerville and Dr. Perricone are my homies. But Christina Carlino & Philosophy? Well, like I've said before, I would willingly do an infomercial and before/after commerical, because my skin? Has become just that good.

Several months back, my skin was out of control. I went from having perfect skin to getting blemishes frequently. Philosophy skin care regime saved my face, literally. Not only did it address my clear skin concerns, it also takes care of my anti-aging worries, too.

This cream, however, this weightless, delicious, decadent facial moisturizer, Hope in a Jar, is heaven come to life. Just a tiny bit goes a long way, and you can literally feel your skin take a big drink of water; you not only see the results quickly, you feel the results immediately.

For those of you who've lost a little hope in the whole gettin' pretty movement, you better get with the program, honey. God gives us but one life to live, doll. And he only gives you one face to show the world. Make sure its your best face forward.

You can pick up Hope in a Jar, and the entire Philosophy line, at Philosophy stores near you, or online at www.philosophy.com; you can also purchase these revolutionary, incredible products at Macy's, Nordstrom, and Sephora stores near you.

The Bachelorette

A few of my friends and family members are tying the knot this spring and summer, and of course, I am thrilled for them. Not only am I a huge fan of weddings, I have been in an ungodly number of weddings and would even like to one day start an event planning and PR firm of my own. One of the other things I like to plan? Bachelorette parties. (Unless the bride acts like Bridezilla, in which case, you're on your own, honey.)

That being said, I've been looking online for ideas for Bachelorette parties. Can I just say that Bachelorette parties are a little on the lame side, in comparison to what the men do at Bachelor parties? Yeah, well, I guess it's better that way, because nobody wants to wake up the day after their wedding with herpes. Like they say in The Hangover, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Except for herpes. That shit will come back with you."

What happens at your bachelorette party stays at your bachelorette party, but who could resist a cake like this? I had to feature it on my blog today, since all this planning business has made me stumble across some pretty interesting finishing touches for celebrations...and what's a party, without the cake?

Just remember...if you're gettin married, you can't have your cake and eat it, too.
That's why you get a really nice one from your girlfriends before your big day.

The Denim Vest in my Closet

I'm loving this denim vest on Ashley Olsen, and for a reasonable price, you can pick up one of your own at select Guess stores nationwide. Just FYI for all my Arizonans out there, the new store at Scottsdale Fashion square is not only more spacious, and right next to Victoria's Secret and MAC, the inventory is a-maaa-zing. I'm lovin it!

I have a denim vest that I've had in my closet since 2005, and let me just start by saying that every few years, it comes back in style, and I bring it out to play with the other wardrobe pieces in my closet. That denim vest could tell some STO--RIEEES. Whoo-eee! From parties to clubs to hot dates, I've thrown that little vest on or layered it over a dress, camisole, or sweater on so many memorable occassions. If that vest could talk...

I won't let go of something (or someone) who has so much dirt on me, they could create a mini-series based on my experiences. In fact, I'm thinking it would look adorable paired with a slim cut dress from H&M that I purchased in California and some ankle booties that look very Kate Moss. Hmm. Now if only I looked like Kate Moss. Or one of the Olsen twins.

Unfortunately, I rather enjoy my sugar fix and addiction to caffeine, so I seriously doubt I'll be looking waif-thin any time soon. But hey, at least we have the denim vest thing in common, Ashley.

Enviable Eyelashes

Poor Brooke Shields.
I am already sick to death of seeing her in countless Latisse commercials.
I can almost memorize her lines, and considering she was once advertising jeans I could not afford, saying things like, "Nobody gets between me and my Calvins," this is probably degrading to her career.

I loved Lipstick Jungle, Brooke!

I digress.

Latisse is FDA approved for those with not enough lashes (yes, I've seen the commerical seven thousand times) but it is rather costly. Of course, someone has to pay Brooke, and put little Rowan and baby Grier (her kids) through prep school. But it shouldn't have to be you, especially in this recession.

So, along comes Loreal's Lash Growth Serum, which I happen to have fallen in love with. Not only are my lashes stronger than ever, when I remove my makeup at night, I don't have to worry about losing a few lashes. I have ROWS of eyelashes now, and they're thick and luscious, especially after I apply a coat of mascara in the morning. One coat at night, one coat in the morning of Lash Growth Serum, and I am good to go, and I have enviable lashes all day long.

To try it for yourself, go to Ulta, Ulta.com, or any drugstore near you. Check your latest issue of InStyle Magazine or Glamour Magazine for the Ulta coupon insert, where you can save $5 off a $10 purchase. This should give you an extra incentive to purchase it today, and try it for yourself.

Shoo, Jimmy Choo...and Goodbye to Debt, Too.

One of my goals this year is to resolve my financial issues. I plan to clear up this messiness by figuring out a way to curttail my spending.

This might be tricky, given the fact that I write a fashion/shopping/style blog that is devoted to highlighting the best of the best in the shopping sphere, and also, the fact that I love shopping more than the average woman. How can I figure out a way to pay off all of my credit card debt while still getting bi-weekly manicures and pedicures, and the occassional new accessory of the moment? I mean, sure, maybe I can make do with the pairs of jeans I currently own (considering I have almost 40 pairs in my closet) but what will I do without a new handbag once a month? Bag, Borrow, or Steal is not my thing. Not only is renting a handbag not up my alley, I would forget to return the damn thing, and then I'd end up having to pay full price for it.

Along comes this fabulous little book, Shoo! Jimmy Choo, by money pro Catey Hill. Not only does it give realistic advice for women like myself (who want to know how to afford a pair of Louboutins while also paying off student loan debt) but it also offers ways to maximize your return on your taxes, pay off high interest credit card debt, and save for retirement.

Spending money is easy. Saving is the way to become a bonafide millionaire. We all know this is true, but so few of us do it. Why? Perhaps because we aren't very good at being supportive friends to each other. We'd much rather encourage each other to go shopping or hit up the salon together. This book is written by the girlfriend you never had, but always NEEDED. She gives you tough-love but realistic advice in an easy-to-understand and relate to format.

And if she can teach me how to become a millionaire by the time I'm 40, (OR possibly retire by 40) I'll take that over a pair of Jimmy Choos, any day.

Whatever Things are Pure, Whatever Things are Good...

Over the past month, I've realized that I need to quit being a stubborn ass.
Sometimes, certain things just don't work for me, and yet I have a hard time parting ways and admitting to myself that something's just not right.
No matter what the tell tale signs are, or how many times I get frustrated, I end up running back to the culprit.

No, I'm not referring to a man in this blog.
But if the shoe fits, wear it, I guess.

Actually, I'd like to highlight my skin dilemma, because about a month ago, I quit using my MAC Studio Fix foundation. Two years of using that foundation, and I developed breakouts more than a teenage boy. It was frustrating to say the least, and I got to the point where I hesitated taking my makeup off in front of Mr. Big. After all, even Sarah Jessica Parker looked semi-decent in front of Mr. Big on SATC. And she was in her late thirties.

I was humiliated when I finally went to Sephora and was nearly in tears, begging my esthetician to give me a referral for a product that would clear up my skin.

"Lorraine, you have GOT to quit using MAC. It is the source of all your skin problems. And, you need a new skincare line. Try Philosophy."

Of course, I'm a sucker for cute labels and packaging. So switching over was easy. I loved the quotes (I'm such a quotes person, it's insane!) but I was skeptical what the line would really do for my face.

I could honestly endorse Philosophy for a living, and if Christina Carlino herself asked me to do an infomercial for her products, I'd not only do it free of charge, I would be her personal assistant for an entire month free of charge just to sing the praises of this amazing skin care line. It not only saved my skin, it gave me my confidence back.

Purity Cleanser takes off every trace of my makeup, which, now that I've left MAC Studio Fix in the dust, is not difficult to remove.

Sometimes, it's hard to leave behind the things we grow accustomed to, things we feel comfortable with or attached to. But the thing is, when there's something that's life-changing waiting around the bend, why hold on to whatever is just not working?


To buy Purity Cleanser for yourself, visit www.Philosophy.com, as well as your local Sephora, Macy's, or Nordstrom stores nearest you. My favorite Philosophy store happens to be located at Dana Park Village on Val Vista and Baseline in Mesa, Arizona. My girls at that location are knowledgeable, friendly, and always helpful.

You Gotta Feel It...It's Electric...

One of my favorite places to shop is Electric Ladyland. Yes, I know this boutique's been around for a while now, but it's an oldie but goodie, so to speak.

Maybe it's because the owner, Penny, has the same style that I do (she mixes elements of sexy, classy, and over-the-top bling together to create her signature style) or maybe it's because her son, who is the co-owner, not only looks scrumptious, but, in every interview I've read, always pays tribute to his uber-fashionable mother. (I can only hope that if I have a son, he is every bit as gorgeous and will honor ME in magazine interviews. After all, when you look at a man with style, you can bet your bottom dollar his mama had something to do with it.)

I have purchased everything from my favorite Juicy Couture pieces like hoodies and velour pants to some super cute jewelry, to gorgeous tops by designers like Sky, which sent me through the metal detector at airport security. "The HELL you're going to frisk me, jackass," I told the TSA gentleman who wanted to figure out "where the metal is that's setting off the detector." (The top had gold metal pieces right under my boobs. Quite a lovely top, but that didn't mean I'd let the terrorist police feel me up.) "I'm wearing designer labels and armfuls of bling. Do you honestly think I'd hijack a plane wearing Chanel sunglasses and carrying a Marc Jacobs handbag? I think not."

Nevertheless, Electric Ladyland not only outfits me in sexy, sleek new looks, they provide the valley stylistas a place to find one-of-a-kind brands, as well as more established designer labels. Check them out today at one of their locations, and at www.electriccouture.com.

Electric Ladyland is located at:
15435 N Scottsdale Rd Scottsdale, AZ 85254 (480) 948-9341

(After this blog was posted, it dawned on me that I had forgotten to add one important fact: Electric Ladyland is now referred to as Electric Couture.)

With a Bat of My Lashes

People often tell me I have enviable lashes. This is something I give full credit to my father for, because he literally has row after row of thick, dark, plush lashes. Since he's a man, and in his early sixties, nobody really gives a shit, including him, but I like to give credit where credit is due.

I really don't notice my lashes all that much, because I usually put my mascara on in the car, at stop lights, on my way to work. I give them one good coat of mascara and, on a special occassion, I curl my lashes.

But I am no fool.

I know that when I'm arguing with the man of the moment, and I bat my lashes a few times; when I'm two millimeters away from his face and I brush my lashes against his skin, he gets the chills (in a good way); and I know when I want to talk my way out of a speeding ticket, ask for a better table at a restaurant, or get drinks sent over for me & my girlfriends, all I need to do is use what my Daddy gave me: my eyelashes.

"I want a girl kinda like you," my former landlord once told me, when I was attempting to find him a lady friend. "Smart, thoughtful, who can cook and clean...and I want her to have eyelashes like yours."

Well, thanks for complementing my body, or the rest of my face, or the fact that I'm an impeccable dresser, buddy. But hey, eyelashes count for something.

Especially when half the population of women spend countless hours seeking out ways in which to make theirs significantly longer, thicker, and fuller.

This mascara from Christian Dior is the ONLY way to go if that's what you're lookin for. I tried it, since I'm a beauty junkie, and I can see why it has such a cult following amongst fashionistas and beauty connoisseurs alike. One coat of DiorShow and your lashes will look like you are bringing sexy back in a MAJOR way.

Be ready to get your way, sweet talk just about anybody, and win every argument you have with your lover.

And if you can perfect your sweet talking skills to potentially get you some jewelry out of him, please pass along your advice this way. My wrists are in need of some bling these days.

Happy Birthday to ME

Happy Birthday, to ME;
Happy Birthday, to ME;
Happy Birthday, dear LC...
Happy Birthday to ME.

Since most of you will probably forget my big 2-8, like I'm Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles, I'll pay homage to myself here. If you see me out and about later, please feel free to send over drinks. I will need the alcohol to forget about the fact that I just spent yesterday, and the first few hours of my birthday, with a man who probably only remembered my birthday because it's the day after his own. Fantastic.

Let's hope my judgment gets a little better with age. 28 would be a sensible age for me to get some common sense.

A toast to me, and to all the fabulous ladies out there who, like my beverage of choice, wine--just get better with age.

A New Years Resolution...

Have you ever done something wrong, and about halfway into doing whatever it is that you're doing, it dawns on you that maybe it wasn't such a great idea? That maybe, just maybe, you had a lapse in judgment? That the little voice inside your head that's not so little anymore is SCREAMING at you, "Get out! It's not too late! What are you doing with your life?"

Or maybe that's just me.

New Years Day, and I made a whole long list of resolutions for myself. Not so much resolutions, as things NOT to do this year.

Example:

1. Do not justify purchasing another pair of black leggings. You are ridiculous, Lorraine. You have 10 pairs hanging in your closet.

2. Do not eat dessert for breakfast. In fact, do not eat dessert at all. Sugar is not a food group, and it is partially the reason why you can't get rid of the cellulite, honey.

3. Do not forget to moisturize your skin before bed. Your skin will thank you in twenty years. Not to mention, you'll put every bitch to shame at your twenty year reunion.

4. Do not continue to run back to men (or, the man) who is commitment-phobic and who keeps running you around in circles like a race car driver at Nascar. Because the truth is, if you keep driving in circles, eventually you're going to have a Dale Earnhardt status crash. And that's one mess that nobody wants to help clean up.

So it baffles me that although I promised myself I'd stay away from my own real life "Mr.Big" because the odds of him ever actually coming through for me in any real way are slim to fucking none, I am going out of my way to spend HIS birthday with him. Which is, incidentally, the day before mine. The advantage is, if we're together, when it turns midnight, he won't have a choice but to remember my birthday. The disadvantage is, why in the fuck should I have to be right next to him for him to remember my special day?

How are we celebrating his day? With Wendy's (for him), a diet coke (for me), a cupcake I brought with me from Tammie Coe Cakes, and Training Day (a movie which entails hours of violence and excessive use of the "f" word. But hey, who am I to judge, right?)

Not exactly romantic, or even the way I'd like to ring in my OWN birthday.

I think I'll eat the cupcake, all by myself. ;)

I'm worth it.

And maybe this year, I'll keep tellin' myself that, until I finally listen...

Should Old Aquaintances be Forgot...

Although I'm spending New Year's Eve at home, in bed, in my pajamas, by myself...
While my own real-life Mr. Big (at least, the Mr. Big of the moment) is texting me, because he's at home, in bed, in pajamas, by himself...
I can't help but wonder...
Will I get my shit together in 2010?

At any rate, I know I will ring in the New Year being thankful for family, love, health, happy days, and good friends.

And anything else that comes my way...
Well, that's just fabulous.

LC's Glam Squad

At the risk of sounding like a self-important, conceited bitch (but what the hell, this is MY blog, after all) people ask me everywhere I go, “Who does your hair?”

I admit to spending a great deal of time and money on the beautification of Lorraine. I wish I could say I am one of those women who gets their hair cut every six months at Supercuts and just doesn’t give a shit (okay, I DON’T EVER want to be one of those women, who am I kidding?) But if I could find a way to write off “hair expenses” and “beauty treatments” on my income taxes, trust me, I would.

Barack Obama, by the way, this is something to look into. Pretty sure Michelle is not getting her hair done by just any random Joe at a cheap, back alley salon specializing in cornrows and weaves. Let’s make one category to itemize expenses for salon visits. Stimulating the economy, one hair appointment at a time. Barack Obama, you said it yourself, honey, it’s time for change.

These are the people who keep me looking and feeling like a million bucks, otherwise known affectionately as my 'glam squad.'

My List of the Crème de la Crème when it comes to BEAUTY PROFESSIONALS:

For Amazing Hair (if I became a celebrity tomorrow, I would hire him to be like Ken Paves, Eva Longoria’s hairdresser, who travels from movie set to movie set doing her hair. Yes, he’s that amazing):
Lethan Olvera
Toni & Guy Salon San Tan Village
2200 East Williams Field Road, Suite 119
Gilbert, AZ 85295
(480) 812-1955

For Incredible Color (only she could take me from Salma Hayek brunette to Jessica Alba honey blonde in a matter of months with no damage to my hair):
Dani Craig
Toni & Guy Salon San Tan Village
2200 East Williams Field Road, Suite 119
Gilbert, AZ 85295
(480) 812-1955

For a fantastic haircut, and the best blowout of your life (he worked for Dolce Salon for years, and he’s not only talented, but a total sweetheart):
Brent Poarch
Sheila’s, Globe, Arizona
(Message me for the number)

For the best waxes, facials, and a great selection of skin care products:
Fuschia
Val Vista & Baseline at Dana Park Village
480-813-7465
1854 S Val Vista Dr # 108, Mesa, AZ

For a great spray tan, or tanning packages that are reasonable, and a fabulous staff of tanning pro’s:
Sunchain Tanning
Power & Baseline
(480) 654-1220

For a fantastic manicure or new set of nails, treat yourself at Addicted to Nails. Ask for Sheera, she’s not only professional, but she’s the friendliest and sweetest person and one inspiring lady.
950 East Pecos Road
Chandler, AZ 85225-2401
(480) 753-3920
www.addictedtonails.com


Visit all these salons and professionals today, and tell 'em LC sent you. You might not be able to write off the expenses on your taxes, but there's no price you can put on looking and feeling fabulous.

Domestic Tranquility

I heard on the news today that someone bought a lottery ticket in Queen Creek that has not been claimed, and they WON the lottery.

I keep racking my brain, trying to remember if I perhaps have purchased lottery tickets in that neighborhood, but maybe was intoxicated at that moment in time, and just don't recall buying one. Because that? Would be my wildest dream come true, especially at the moment.

Please, God, send me some money, so I can pay down my debts and move into my own house again. I don't ask for much in this life (okay, who am I kidding, sometimes I do) but I have overstayed my welcome at my Mom's. There is a reason you don't go from living on your own (since the age of 18) to moving back in with Mom in your twenties. You will drive yourself insane, and take everyone else along for the ride.

But when I do move out of here (I know, I'm making it sound like a prison sentence, and my parents have been so amazing to let me live here and save money)(which, thanks to my penchant for shopping, I haven't done a very good job of) I know I want my bedroom to look something like this, or at least be inspired by this.

Domestic Bliss is the boutique to go to if you want your room to look like this, too.

And all we can ALL do is pray for a little bit of bliss in our worlds this new year.

P.S.--If any of my friends in cyberspace happen to be the ones who bought that lucky lottery ticket, kick me down some cash, honey. This little lady needs a place to call her own.

Domestic Bliss is located at:
www.domesticblissdesign.com
116 W. Main #114
Mesa, AZ 85210