In the driver's seat...

The first time Pulsar and I touched (pictured above)

I am one of those weird people who does not yet have a driver's license. Yeah, yeah, I have the permit. Considering that I was formerly completely and utterly terrified of driving, there has been some progress. Especially, considering that I met a person who grew up in suburbia, and was STILL terrified of driving even though he was almost 30. True story.
So, now I can drive, but I still have not braved the 4 hour safety class. Silly. Parallel parking was a breeze.

While all of this utterly fascinating internal dialogue was going on, I was neglecting a very, very special person. That person is my car. My car is named "Pulsar", and is a silver 2003 Honda Civic LX. Pulsar has been patiently, patiently waiting for me in my driveway for months now. My step-dad went out to the car recently, put his hands on the hood of the car and cried out: "It needs loooooove!".

Being a typical human, this made me feel immensely guilty. Now every time I look out the window at the car, I hear a sad, drawn out violin sequence.

The goal for tomorrow is to get the said car registered so that we can start building our relationsh-I mean, practice driving more.

Gathering forces and subtle saboteurs (an in-depth self mockery)

Sooo, things are going along as usual. Am very excited for the Otter, as he had a second job interview today, and I think he's going to get it.

As for my job: there are many warning signs. I honestly have been having terrible luck selling key items (hurried customers and the like), and it's not reflecting well on yours truly. The (cool) Bossman has told me that higher ups are urging him to let one of us minions go, and when you have loans to pay off, that's scary shit.

The Bossman, being the kind and sympathetic person that he is, has started making jokes pointed at me to make me nervous.
I made the 1 millionth mental note today to start producing artwork to sell.

Recently, while making the usual return trip to the land of Upstate New York from the territory of New Jersey, I almost got very screwed. My usual trip involves me taking 2 trains one way, which means that in order to transfer at Secaucus Junction I must have my ticket with me. Well, on the first leg of the trip, the conductor, instead of checking the ticket and returning it, took the ticket. I even reached up to retrieve it, and he danced it away from my hands. Well, I figured that perhaps he had good reason, and waited for him to return it. Waited, waited. Finally got up and tracked the conductor down, who was very sheepish about it all as he punched out a receipt for me, which made me realize that this conductor was used to some severe verbal abuse from passengers (which I had not doled out in the slightest).

Got to Secaucus, and (as usual) I had missed my connection because of the lazy lazy train engineer from the NJCL. I went to register a complaint, as this is the 4th time this has happened. The ladies in the Customer Service counter were very understanding and took my name down. Then I told them that I had complained 3 times previously. They both looked startled, and informed me that none of my previous complaints had been registered in the computer. I told them that it was always the same guy who took my name previously. They both got knowing looks on their faces and told me that only 1 guy worked the desk. I chuckled to myself. They chuckled. Gotchya now, lazy bones.

Despite the inherent frustrations of frequenting public transportation, the idea of driving my precious car into New Jersey is still far more unsettling. I am certainly not that advanced of a driver yet.

Revamping the Blog- A new mission statement

All right, a new year means a new outlook on things, right? Let's be honest, this blog is not a great fashion blog. I'm converting it to my day-to-day blog, and I will be adding scenes from my imagination, hypothetical outcomes, ridiculous hyperbole, and other madness to keep this blog from becoming as dry as dust.

The status quo : I am a recent college graduate with a degree in Biology, a hankering for most things creative, and (currently) more free time than I should have. I live in upstate NY, work a retail job with an awesome boss and co workers, and my very sweet boyfriend (referred to as Otter), lives in NJ. Currently am looking for a more substantial job. To clarify things: when new people are introduced to this blog, I will their names to protect them from the consequences of all of our shenanigans.

Two days ago: I got my first real corset, one that actually has steel boning. W0000! I recently purchased said lovely corset from damselinthisdress (http://damseldress.blogspot.com/). It is gorgeous, and it completely feeds one of my mental versions of myself (don't we all have fantasy versions of ourselves?) , which is as a pirate captain. I put on a ridiculously pirate-esque linen shirt I have, and pulled myself into the corset. After adding corset to a free afternoon, one gets a person swaggering around the house demanding a flagon of rum from anyone who would listen. I also began referring to myself as "Captain Badassian". My family, instead of quelling this behavior, tends to encourage it, so mom and I ended up sharing stealth pina coladas at dinner, and my step dad suggested that I should get another corset made entirely of Kevlar for walking around NYC.

Otter also thinks highly of the corset photos I have sent him so far, but he has yet to see the ridiculous (and still hatless!!) Capt. Badassian, the Minor Headache of the Caribbean, in action.