FIVE TIMES TORY

I have a Tory Burch gift card burning a hole in my wallet.  Almost literally.

But not at all.

I had my heart set on her quintessential cognac leather peep toe wedges with the gold medallion... but I tried them on and, much to my dismay, my little toes wouldn't peep.

Just not meant to be I guess.

So I've browsed and browsed and wished that my gift card would have little gift card babies so I could buy something fabulously expensive, but that doesn't seem to be working.

Here's a round-up of some of the goods I'm eyeing that are closer to my (small) price range.

I'd love to know which is your favorite!!  I am having a hard time with this decision...

Since it's totally life or death, though, I have to make it soon.

Do you hoard gift cards or feel the need to instantly use them?

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P.S.  Yes, a week ago I was venting about sales and spending money.  That's why this post is about a gift card and not about the other kind of plastic ;)

I'M GOING TO DIE, BUT I WON'T BE HUNGRY

I don't own a microwave.  I only got internet and cable at home when I found out I'd be housing intern-roommate... because I figured a 20 year-old would freak out knowing that there are people who exist without these things.

I digress...

Because of recent dietary changes (again, I swear I'll post about it one of these days) I'm very limited in my eat-on-the-go breakfast options.

But recently I discovered that you can scramble eggs in a microwave, which we do have in the office.

First of all, I know this sounds disgusting.  I hate microwaves and I'm obviously certain I'm going to die from eating these radiation-filled eggs (hence the post title).

Surprisingly enough, they're actually pretty palatable.  Not restaurant quality, by any means... but to a starving gal with limited options... they're fine.

I'm not sure what the point of this post is... but when I die... you can definitely blame the eggs.

Love,

Full-but-doomed-to-die-a-microwavable-eggy-death Alicia

P.S.  I really need to figure out some make-ahead non-deadly options.  I'll let you know how that goes.

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ANYTHING CAN BE

Happy Monday, friends :)

fyi - I can type that with a smile because I'm not writing this Monday morning.

I saw this quote (not to mention gorgeous depiction of it) and had to share.

First of all, I'm a total sap and love the inclusion of "child" in the statement.  It sounds so warm and caring and loving and comforting.

Second of all, I loved Shel Silverstein's books growing up.  Where the Sidwalk Ends, A Light in the Attic, and Falling Up were among my favorites.

And, finally, (most obviously) the sentiment is fantastic.

Anything can be.

I put so many limitations on things.  They can't be because of time, money, and all sorts of other constraints.

Anything can happen, child.  Anything can be.

If I look at my life right now, so many things have happened that I never would have thought possible.

I am so much stronger than I ever knew (physically, mentally, emotionally).  I have a pretty freakin fantastic group of friends surrounding me (I always thought myself a loser or a not-cool-kid).  I may not love my job, but I have been working here for 2.5 years (I have a tendency to hop from one thing to another and not just stay put).  I am dating a wonderful man that hopefully someday will be more than just a boyfriend (um hello I was one of those little girls dreaming about someday weddings).

If all these things could happen, anything can happen.

What else can I will into being?  I very much believe in the universal law of attraction... so if I can create my own reality and build my own life... what do I want to do, to be?

After all, it can be anything.

Does this quote resonate with you at all?  Am I the only one who loved Mr. Silverstein's poetry?  Please share below.

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I'M A GROWN-UP?

It didn't happen overnight.  And I certainly didn't do it on purpose... but I think I'm a grown-up.

Here are a few of the signs I've noticed:

- I often think (and sometimes even blurt out), "That girl should put on a sweater!!  It is too cold to be wearing that."

- I consider it a late night if I see 10pm... even from the comfort of my own sofa.

- I call my sofa a sofa.

- I can't read a menu if the lights are too dim in a hip bar/restaurant. <-- this is super embarrassing to admit

- I just wrote the word "hip".

- I bought a vacuum for my big "splurge" when bonuses came out at work.  And I'm super excited about it.

- I don't know how technology works.  I'm one of those people that when handed an iPhone accidentally does something crazy and hands it over like it's a hot potato to its owner saying, "I don't know what happened but FIX IT!!"

- I wear belts and tuck my shirt in.  We used to call this the "Rachel Ray" look.  Now I sport it almost daily.

- I get mad at "kids these days".  Especially when they are rude with cell phone usage (put it away at the dinner table), or dress inappropriately for their age.  Little girls don't need halter tops, people.  Or an iPhone, for that matter.

I'm sure there are a million other little things, but those are the ones that have hit me the most in the past week or two.

When did you realize you had reached "grown-up" status?  Please tell me I'm not alone...

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LIES

*before you get too excited and start asking me for the links to the above sales, read the post title..*

Dear friends -

I love to shop.

Too much.

It is a sickness.  An addiction.  A very dangerous slippery slope.

And I try to be "good".  Sometimes I am.  Sometimes I'm not.  And sometimes I pay for my mistakes.  Literally.  With interest.

When I get into these bad cyclical ruts, I get frustrated with myself.

Don't get me wrong - I take full responsibility for my actions.

However, I am all-too-familiar with what I like to call "shopper's logic" that retailers encourage.  They practically shove it down our throats.  It goes something like this:

"Oooooh these are buy one get one half off.  I really like this one, 

and I don't really like this one BUT IT'S ON SALE... so I should get both...!!"

Lies.

Let's "do some simple addition" like our buddy Macklemore:

One shirt = $50.  But you love it, so we'll just go with that being a good deal for now.

Second shirt = $50 @ 50% off = $25.  That is totally half priced!!!!!

But you only kind of like it.  Is buying a shirt you don't really like worth $25?

Because now you're spending $75, plus tax, instead of just $50.  You're spending 50% more than you would just buying the item you actually like on something you don't really like.

So, by all means, enjoy the spring and summer sales.  Shop to your little heart's (or your littler budget's) content.  But just know that the retailers are lying to you.

You work hard for the money, so you better spend it right.

Right?

Right.

Love,

Broke Alicia

WAY TOO SERIOUS

I saw this quote here (one of my favorite blogs, for the record) from an interview Iris Apfel did with Harper's Bazaar and it really struck a chord with me.

First of all, major kudos to the ninety-one-year-old for calling it like she sees it.  Goodness knows she is a fashion icon who knows her stuff.  I am definitely no fashionista, know very little about designers, and even I recognize her.

Second of all, though, I definitely fall prey to the idea of "taking dressing way too seriously".  If I had a dollar, heck even a quarter, for every tear I've shed over having nothing to wear or looking fat, ugly, you-name-it-I've-said-it... I'd be swimming in cash like Scrooge McDuck.

That is totally embarrassing to admit, but all too true.

I, for one, do not want to look any older than I have to (I'm talking to you mini forehead wrinkles).

So I hereby declare that I will no longer place an inordinate amount of pressure on myself to dress perfectly.  I will just put on what I feel like and strut my stuff.

After all, it's perfectly fine to make fashion mistakes.  Like Ms. Apfel says,

Why not?  The fashion police are not going

to pull you over and put you in jail!

Sometimes it's good because your friends see you

the day after and say, 'Oh, you look so much better!'

Amen.

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BREAKUP LETTER

Dear Blogs,

I've been doing some thinking.  I really like reading you.  Some of you inspire me and bring out the best in me.  But I found myself too eager.  I started subscribing to too many of you and I lost myself along the way.

Some of you post content that is mindless, or simply regurgitated from other thoughtfully curated blogs.

Sometimes you made me feel bad about myself.  Like I wasn't enough.  Didn't have enough.  Didn't do enough.  Didn't incestuously link to other bloggers who have careers built upon other people wanting to live the "bloggers dream life" of... shopping, sipping expensive lattes, and instagramming along the way.  By the way, I'm pretty sure that lifestyle isn't real (not without a super rich hubby to support the hobby, at least).

Sometimes you post outfits that I honestly don't think are flattering on your lovely figure.  Sometimes you post outfits that I could never afford, but find myself pining after anyways.  Sometimes you announce that you are quitting your day job to work for yourself (kudos to you), but your business doesn't make sense to me.  Who is paying you to do that?  Oh.  Other bloggers.  That you are paying to do things for you.

What?

Because of this confusion and downward spiral, I have decided to break up with some of you.  Yes.  I've unsubscribed.

It's not you, though.  It's me.

My time is too valuable to spend reading content that I don't even like.  I still follow my favorites.  I am still inspired by lots of bloggers.  Some of them are even among the ranks of those who make a living blogging.

But they do a good job.

And they feed my spirit and encourage me to be a better person.

I am sure you'll be fine.  You have lots of other readers.  We just aren't a good fit.

I wish you the best.

- Alicia

p.s. I promise I've never actually broken up with someone in a letter.  Have you? ;)

p.p.s. I know it's April Fools' Day, but I'm not kidding.