unsubscribed.

i made myself a 30 day 'chip.' why should people in AA have all the fun?

hello, my name is Bethany and i am a shopaholic.

okay, not completely true but slightly (you can tell this is the denial part of my problem). I have never gone into debt for anything--even school, but that doesn't mean that i might not shop a little too much.

But i have changed my ways. i have unsubscribed from those handy emails that tell me when things are 40% off already reduced prices. i have made new budgets. i have given away my shopping arsenal to save money. i have even liquidated shoes, bags and a ridiculous amount of lotion on eBay.

Maybe i am giving myself too much credit for not shopping for the past 40 days, i mean if you already own enough dresses that you could wear a different one each week to church without repeating you probably should have stopped shopping about 40 dresses ago...Same with dishes, i mean i have three sets and can serve 24 people--i can't even fit 10 people in my apartment! The fact that i own EVERYTHING i could possibly need during my twenties combined with the Mad Men collection from Banana Republic this year not be tempting in the slightest, i shouldn't be shopping anyway...

the feeling is mutual W&S... the feeling is mutual...

Ever since i was young i have been obsessed with money--making it, counting it, writing budgets for it, organizing it, planning the future with it--everything. With ten kids in the family and my dad being out of work my entire life due to a dibilitating accident everyone noticed money and probably our lack thereof. I was never without anything important, i always had clean clothes, a nice house, birthday/christmas presents etc. and didn't ever notice that we didn't have a lot of spare change, I just knew that if there was something i wanted i needed to figure out a way to earn the money to purchase it. This seemed, and still seems, very logical to me.

When i was younger i would take every babysitting job that was offered, even the ones from that family that the normal sane 13 yr old didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. When i would get home i would write the date, job, and amount i was paid on a piece of paper and drop it in a tin box. At the end of the year i would tally up how much i made at each job and which ones were more profitable. I would also write down every dollar that i spent in the same fashion and tally that up too. For years i could tell you exactly how much i made and spent in the smallest of categories.

i do get to shop if i have a gift card. thanks nyc boss for giving me things i could return to Nordstroms so buy these shoes instead.

Then i was a teenager and basically on my own financially. I moved out when i was 16 to be a live in nanny for my sister while her husband served in Iraq. I was living on such little amounts of money that i had a strict budget for buying things like shampoo. It was also during this stint of my life that i started really wanting my own home. By the time i graduated and left my hometown i had lived in 6 different homes with 4 of those being during high school and two during my senior year alone. When i would get stressed out or have an argument with my sister i would de-stress by going to the mall. I couldn't buy anything but i began to love being in stores--no one cares if you are wandering around slowly and everything is nice, new and clean. Soon however, shopping became a talent of mine and not just a coping mechanism.

Turns out that i am really, i mean REALLY good at shopping. I can find everything that i have been wanting at the best prices always.

As i got older and had better paying jobs i started buying things that normal teenagers didn't buy. I went to college with William & Sonoma oven mits, a Kitchen Aid and cleaning supplies i had already more than broken in. My favorite stores weren't Forever 21 or Gap, they were William & Sonoma, Pottery Barn, and Costco.

i am REALLY good at shopping and getting killer deals

Then i discovered Banana Republic. And then my life got very full of stuff.

But, i am changing my ways.

i am especially not allowed to buy nail polish, you could say i have enough...

In January i decided that for the rest of the year i would not buy anything other than the most basic necessities--groceries and gas. I allow myself a small budget to go out with friends--so that i can still have friends--but i am trying to only eat out etc when someone invites me. And other than that, i am done shopping. I will not buy anything for my house--not even a tupperware, not anything for the bathroom (i have a stockpile of lotion/tooth paste/shampoo etc so the rule is that it has to be GONE before i can buy anything new), no nail polish, no new clothes, nothing.

The ironic thing is, up until i stopped buying things i was attached to most my possessions but now i am really good at getting rid of things.

here's to 10 more months of not being a consumer and hopefully building up a savings account again. The last six months have been more than rough money wise, but i have high hopes that i can fix it. I am so serious about this venture that i unsubscribed from most emails AND gave my last Banana Republic reward ($30 none-the-less) along with my 10% off tote to my sister so that i wouldn't be temped.

damn you uncle sam and your taxes.

my last purchases, a green pencil skirt and patterned top from Banana Republic. turns out it is really hard to take a decent picture of yourself with a self timer...

oh and i decided i am not even buying a car when i have to give my nephew's back in june. i mean, i already own a bicycle... because as you can see i am very good at riding bicycles.

"damn girl, you be lookin' fine!"

welcome to the blog post that i should entitle: picture texts from dressing rooms/bathrooms that i send to my sisters to get approval/applause. 

(but really it is about the random boys in manhattan that think i am the cat's pajamas and say so with less correct grammer and more enthusiasm)

this one time i went to a franternity ball

My time in the big apple might be pretty rough at times, but i will give it one thing, new york convinced me that i got something going on in the strutting-my-stuff department.

We all know that my dating life leaves something everything to be desired. That is why the Me tab of my blog reads like it does (which you should read and give feedback) and why i have that other blog about dating. It wasn't until i moved to nyc that i realized what my problem has been:

white mormon boys are not into me.

You would think this might get me down--i mean it does in the sense that i still feel little hope for my dating life once i get back to utah since it is both very mormon and very not ethnic--but right now, in this instance, it makes me feel awesome.

I was recently at a mormon party in the upper west side of manhattan where a boy i had never met was chatting with me. He asked which church building i went to and when i replied that i go the Harlem one he looked at me like i'm crazy and don't know the city well.

"why would you go to that one? The lincoln center building and ward are sooo much better!"

"but no one on the lower west side tells me, 'damn girl, you are lookin fine today!' when i am walking to the lincoln building in a dress and heels."

I don't think we are on the same page.

But seriously, when i need a self esteem boost i head to Canal Street or Harlem in some heels, it has yet to disappoint. Also, it is different than the cat calls from construction workers in the west, these guys don't try to get your number (okay i take that back, the guy at Home Depot tried to get me to take him to lunch and offered to come measure my shower for a remodel...) they just want to let you know that they think you are smokin and then they, and you, move on with your day.

I know that i am not a terrible looking human being, but i also realize that you have to work at things more than a little bit to help what the good Lord gave you. We can all remember my post that contained dozens of blackmail-style photographs chronicling my life. I think we can all agree that when i realized that makeup can be a kind friend, that hair is something that should not be cut to mimic a bowl, and there is clothing out there for every body type, i started looking a whole lot better. Though i like to think that i make most of these things work to my advantage, i have still never been one of those girls that boys flock to or tell how pretty they are. But new york, bless it's soul, has done that.

okay, sometimes it is true, sometime i don't dress cute. luckily i usually leave it in the dressing room...

I will admit that a lot of it is in the outfit. One day when i wore a hot pink dress with teal high heels i had at least 10 guys on one stretch of Canal Street tell me that i was beautiful and even offer me discounts at their stores. But then again, yesterday a guy said 'hey beautiful' right as i passed and i was covered head to toe in bulky clothing because it was 30 degrees (okay i take that back, i was wearing a coat but it was the leopard print MadMen jacket from Banana Republic...).

The best though, was an encounter that happened right before the hurricane.

The feeling of severeness of the hurricane went from 0-10 in the matter of a couple hours. I had a friend visiting from Utah for the weekend and when we woke up we decided to go running in central park (which of course meant that he ran in the park and i ran to William Greenberg's to buy the best black and white cookies in the city...). There were quite a few people out and it seemed like a normal day. Then i got numerous texts about how the city was shutting down the subway at 7pm in anticipation of the storm. Then my friend got a message from Delta that they canceled his flight for the next day...

Suddenly we were in panic mode.

We hurried back to the apartment, showered, packed up our stuff, jumped on the train and headed to the airport to get him on any flight that would take him out of the city. After we succeeded at getting him on a flight to Atlanta--no where near SLC where he wanted to go--i started trying to figure out what i was going with myself during the storm. I had only a few hours until the subway was shutting down and could either stick out the storm at my friend's house or head out to PA to stay with my sister. I opted to stay in new york but the girl i was staying with said they wouldn't let me in the door unless i had sufficient supplies so i headed to Trader Joe's so grab some water and a little food to add to my current stash.

i bought this coat specifically for nyc

I walked in and the store was relatively dead so naturally i took the chance to use their restroom--which are hard to come by in the city. I stepped out of the bathroom only to find that 100 people had flooded the store in those 3 minutes. Being completely overwhelmed by the craziness i quickly decided that PA was my option.

Now i was left with less time and I had to go back uptown to the apartment i was staying at, collect my things, grab some dinner, and make it to Penn Station downton while trains were still running out of the city. Needless to say i was running around like a man woman, my hair in a loose wet braid, no makeup, and i wearing a stylish outfit of jeans and a raincoat. As i flew down the stairs in one of the subways a boy stopped me. I assumed he needed directions since people everywhere looked confused about the subway shutting down.

"are you Russian?"

the raincoat. now imagine wet hair and no makeup.

Apparently he didn't need directions. When I said no he quickly asked if i was Polish. I looked rather puzzled and told him that i grew up in the west. Chuckling he said, "ah yeah, i can tell now from your accent, you are definitely American."

Then he continued, "well anyway, you have this great natural beauty (i think that was the polite way to say that i wasn't wearing makeup or fitted clothes) and well, the hurricane has made me realize that life is short. Do you want to grab coffee after the storm passes?"

and sometimes i just wear outfits/accessories that are just plain cool. right? RIGHT?

That's right ladies and gentlemen, the only date i have been asked out in nyc happened on the subway because someone felt their impending doom because of a looming natural diaster.

Moral of this long tale: he is neither Caucasian or mormon. And in case you are wondering if he followed through on his plan, he did text me during the hurricane and then called me last night to see when we can go out.

Someone find an ethnic boy in utah stat. You have six weeks until i return.

what was i thinking?

First of all, a little plea on the blogsphere:

remember that one time when i posted a blog about photos and a girl de-friended me on facebook because she was so offended why what i--mostly sarcastically--wrote?

at least she gave me feedback.

and you don't want to be outshone by that mean girl, so you should give me feedback too with my new little gadget at the end of each post:

she choose to post on my facebook link

 'I just have to say that I read this and I am really disgusted by some of the things you said. I mean, utterly appalled. I'm practically speechless, I am so sickened by this.' 

but I assume she ment to click the box 'offended,' so i did it for her.

anyway, its takes .986 seconds to do, faster than a comment (which only like .2834 of you do) and it makes me feel like people actually read this thing. 

and now for my real post:

What Was I Thinking?

On days like today i sit back and think, 'why did i think it was a good idea to move to Manhattan?' You see, my day started at 7:30 when i checked my email (not a normal thing by the way, i loathe the fact that everyone assumes you should respond to emails within a fraction of the day, if you want to get a hold of me, make it pop up on my phone without having to go look for it...) and found a message from a girl that said i could come look at her apartment before work.  It was amazing I found the email in time, i don't normally get up until 8 or so.

Backstory: 

      You see, this one time i subleased a studio apartment from a girl who owned a studio in Harlem but moved to Utah. We agreed that i would sublease it until the end of the year, well, that is until she called me on Monday, only 3 weeks into me living there, to tell me that her, her husband, and her baby were moving back into said apartment on the 17th. 

      lets just pause for a moment here so you can take it in like i did.

      she is MOVING back into the apartment in 15 days (now 13...). Something she never mentioned to me. Please note that said apartment was for sale and i had to have it show ready every Sunday. Like she had no plan on moving back because she was trying to SELL it. (which by the way, if it had sold while i lived there it would have taken at least a month if not two before i would have to move)

        this girl sucks.

        a lot.

        and i sent one scathing email that might have mentioned that.

Any other day before work would have been fantastic but today i am going to Philly after work so now a HUGE 50lb suitcase is involved--i need to do laundry and store some of my belongings at my sisters in the event i do become homeless or sublet hop for the next two months. The girl failed to mention the address of the place and didn't get the memo where i asked for her to text me if she wanted to come, so i quickly sent her an email saying i was jumping on the train and to text me so that when i got service randomly in the underground i would know where the hell i was headed.

i then lugged my suitcase 0.3 miles to the subway, down two flights of stairs and then onto the full train. I finally got a text telling me where to get off, hauled my suitcase (and camera bag and purse with laptop) up two flights of stairs and then another 0.3 miles later, i had finally made it... to paradise.

The apartment is beautiful. It has a huge lobby, doorman, gym, lounge, roof with amazing view of everything you would want to see and a place to have bbqs and fires, and it is one stop away on the train from my office in SoHo. Nothing could have been better, nothing except for the fact that they need someone to sign a lease and if I did that then I would have to find someone to take over my lease after only two months AND i would have to shell out $2000 for the security deposit (which the subleaser would pay to take over the lease).

Is this a terrible idea? Am i so desperate that I am ready to shell out $2000 and sign a year lease in the city just to have a place to stay for 6 weeks to 2 months (I can't move in until Nov. 1st)?!

      and now i am back to hating the girl that is kicking me out.

So now i leave for work, which i am already late for, and walk out the lovely building that i want to house me. This is where things get worse.

pretend instead of rain that is sweat. THAT is how sweaty i was. and i looked THAT unhappy too.

First i get lost and go an extra .1 miles,  not a big deal if 80 lbs of luggage was not involved.

Two turns later (and one walk of shame past a man who saw me go the wrong way .765 minutes ago...) i find my correct route.

And now, one of the wheels fall off my suitcase.

Like a beacon in the night i finally see the J subway line. Two flights of stairs later i realize that it is headed to Brooklyn and i have no earthly idea where the uptown station is. 

Back up two flights of stairs, utterly defeated.

Finally I decide to use what the good Lord gave me and hail a cab with beautifully manicured orange nails (he gave me good hands, not the nail polish--obviously)

Old Navy Rockstar Jeans

$10 later i am finally at work. Everything i am wearing is sopping wet, the sweat cascading off my forehead down into my eyes. 

Rachel's 'birthday cake' made out of cookies the size of your head. almost a week later, they are still a pretty good breakfast.

Then i realize that i never ate breakfast and my beloved protein shake is still on the counter at home, but don't worry, i have a GIANT black & white cookie in my purse, the breakfast of champions.  (there was also a half a piece of pizza in there, but i didn't want to be that smelly co-worker)

Did i mention that the entire time i was sweatily trudging down the street in the Financial District--constantly backtracking and passing the same people for a second time--that i was wearing bright orange pants? There was no mistaking me.

Especially since you could hear me coming for miles with the wretched scrapping plastic sound screaming from my one-wheeled suitcase.

"would it be weird if i asked if i could..."

I once read that imogen heap and guy sigsworth named their musical duo Frou Frou because it is the sound silk skirts make when women dance that drives men wild. If a sound can drive men wild, i have found the scent. 

Meet my new best friend/worst enemy. The body shop's oceanus body lotion.

Okay, this isn't a new relationship, the smell of oceanus takes me back to my pristinely clean white bathroom in high school. At the time i was a live in nanny and home quite a bit. Being home and taking care of messy kids made me overly clean. Every friday i got in the habit of deep cleaning my bathroom, from scrubbing the grout to carefully polishing the sink hardware. My sanctuary was my room and bathroom, no one else used them, they were all mine, all white, all clean, and all mine. Because i used oceanus a lot at this time, it always makes me feel clean, especially since the smell is a sweet clean laundry scent.

I always took comfort in this smell, that is until recently.

I walked into dinner group a while ago and as soon as i shut the front door a boy started loudly sniffing me, moving his head from my feet to my face. "You smell so good!" he said. The loud sniffing caught me off guard and slightly weirded me out, "Um, thanks..."

things i thought would entice boys, cute outfits. can you tell i love dresses? a lot?

I purposely sat on the other side of the table from him while we ate but when i was leaving i was found standing next to him again. "Seriously, you smell so good! You smell like my great grandmother's house." Excuse me, your what?! He assured me that was a good smell, but seriously, I smell like old people and that turns you on?! I laughed it off like i wasn't creeped out and jokingly walked over to him (and another boy to asked if he could smell) stretched my nimble leg in the air and as gracefully as vanna white presented my leg for a millisecond snif.  

Then the second boy chased me out the door to ask me on a date.

part of my vast rainbow high heel collection

At church three days later, the first boy walked across an entire row of seats to sit in the vacant seat next to me. I had my suspicions but gave him the benefit of the doubt. A couple hours later i was talking to a friend in the bishop's office when out of the corner i heard "you smell so good." I turned to him and said, "that is the only reason you sat next me isn't it?!" not even sheepishly he answered "well, kinda, you just smell so good." I asked him if he wanted me to give him some of the lotion so he could smell it whenever he wanted but he said that it is my scent mixed with it. Creepy. I then slid out of the room sideways laughing a broken awkward laugh...

I had always thought that boys would notice more outward attempts at being lovely. I liked to think that when i dressed up, that is what would entice the boys--my intense collection of classy dresses and skittle assortment of rockin heels. Little did i know that it only takes a quarter size of fragrant moisturizer to make the heads turn.

Unfortunately, not the right heads. 

At fhe a week ago--a month after i was first smelled--i ran into the boy again. He casually looks over at me and says "hello bethany, would it be weird if i asked if i could smell you?" yes, yes it would. 

I told him i stopped wearing that lotion. He wasn't surprised that it was because of him. 

Don't loudly sniff girls. It is strange. And it made me stop wearing one of my favorite things.

my sister mallory, but my outfit, aren't we cute when we try?

if you knew me solely from facebook...

I had a realization. My facebook statuses make me look like a fat zit faced teenager with zero social skills. 

If you only knew me through facebook, imagine what picture these statuses would paint in your mind... (and these only have to do with my physical appearance...)

read this blog. now. it is hilarious and reminds me how i feel sometimes about food. God of Cake, Hyperbole and a Half

6/18/2009

my shorts match my toenails. who knew that GAP carries Skanky Barbie Fuchsia colored clothes?! 

11/3/2009

i feel like i am going to vomit. is it nerves, or that ridiculously large chimichanga i just ate? 

3/27/2010

Bethany looks likes someone smashed Cheetos on her face. 

5/24/2010

i have a heating pad stuck to my back, my right foot is still swollen and bruised, and i have blood running from my heel into my shoe. i thought i had at least 40 more years until my body started falling apart.

9/9/2010

either i got bit by a gnarly bug or has the worlds largest zit. either way, my eye is swelling shut... 

9/30/2010

why i like hanging out in the hfac print lab: "i like your sideburns, i mean the lack there of. They have a nice shape, they aren't like guys since you don't have facial hair."- Brannon 

my purple hair.

12/24/2010

i think i looked better as a brunette instead of a purplette. christmas eve dye job fail. 

2/8/2011

i made an arm sling out of my sweater belt. classy. 

5/3/2011

i woke up with mascara on my chin. how the? 

5/12/2011

Levi informed me that today my shoes are outlandish in both color and height. 
Did it seriously take him 4 straight years of working everyday with me to catch on to that? 

 

5/31/2011

you always (secretly) hope that the day you run into your arch-nemesis after many years you look beyond fantastic, alas when that happened to me today i had a frumpy braid, extra big sweater, one fist holding a chunk of fudge and the other shoving a cookie into my mouth... i guess they just won again. damn.

6/23/2011

I am going to go ahead and pretend that since I can't see my butt hanging out the four inch hole in my shorts, no one else can either... 

6/29/2011

When you go to school with no makeup or deodorant, wearing sweat pant shorts and your sister's maternity shirt, your day only has the possibility of getting better. 

But the hard truth is, I have photographic evidence that this does indeed paint an accurate picture of me. (and sadly, the photos even say more and are more frequent...)

case and point

And then there are the statuses that make me look like i have zero social skillz, to go with my 'i just ate an entire batch of cookie dough' persona...

11/21/2009

when i put on my sunglasses i thought, "wow this is like the recovery slider in the RAW window of Photoshop..." and that is when i realized i am a huge nerd.

these are just so i feel better about my self.

3/4/2010

Day #3 of using a princess sandwich tupperware as a water glass. time to do the dishes at the office... 

3/22/2010

i feel pathetic, either too much photographing or too much invoice folding (at super sonic speeds) has landed me in a wrist brace. 

6/30/2010

i hope God has a replay button for our lives. I really want to know who screamed first in their sleep last night which caused me and Jenny to end up in a bear hug (complete with her nails digging into my arm) screaming at each other in terror. we also  terrified ada which added to the screaming mayhem. fun times at the Davis household at 3:45 in the am...

7/8/2010

thank you, efy boy, that flirted with me today. even though you may have thought i was 14, my dating moral has still been boosted. 

11/23/2010

apparently my long jumping skills were much better in the 8th grade. Hey running clothes and iPhone, meet the middle of this super muddy and merky marsh! 

see, i can be cute.

3/3/2011

days that start with car failure and end with a razor blade lodged in my finger are pretty memorable.

3/7/2011

thanks to Carrie and Jenny, I now have a tag line for my blog. I am cool in a perfectly awkward, uncool way. exactly what i always wanted to be!

5/6/2011

So I just accidentally went to a midnight showing of Thor by myself. I am awesome.

6/7/2011

mom "you should really go to that big east coast single adult conference next summer, it sounds like a fun vacation and it is full of doctors and lawyers, real catches...
"
me "so you have that little of faith in my dating skills that you are planning a year in advance to find me a date."
mom "oh no, i mean, it just seems like..." 

6/20/2011

apparently texting people when deliriously tired is equivalent to drunk dialing. 

no i didn't do that recently...to a boy...that i want to date. 

damn. 

Though amidst the unbecoming statuses there were a few gems that give a hint as to my true awesomeness, i would say that my social networking skills need a bit of help.

363/365

this time last year i decided that i was actually going to make a new years resolution. this was big. this was huge. don't get me wrong, i make goals, i tend to write them in dry erase on my bathroom mirror and erase them as i knock them out of the park- but new year's resolutions, not my thing.


but last year i decided that i would wear makeup everyday for one year and make it my new year's resolution.

see, proof i wear makeup.

you see, i sell high end cosmetics for a living. i can tell you the shade name, retail price, shipping weight, our price, and a decent description of every item that we carry. don't worry that we have over 600 listings on ebay, over 50 shades of lip gloss alone. i am pretty good at cosmetics, however, wearing them and knowing how to wear them is something else...



i like clothes and accessories. i am known for my extensive banana republic wardrobe and amazing assortment of stilettos. i always know what i was going to wear, but i never put much thought into my hair or makeup. i decided this should change.

i figured out how to photograph my crazy eye, don't include it! (oh, but i did leave in my scar from eye surgery) thank you banana, for this eye covering fedora for $3.74

now that it is december 31st, 2010, i can officially say that i succeeded at my first ever new year's resolution. i wore some form of makeup everyday (except for the two days i spent in lake powell) of 2010. and since it is the last day of the year, i decided to go out with a bang. i am wearing mascara (and it is not sunday), and i even added in a few smashbox false lashes.

there is a reason i rarely do self portraits, it just doesn't work for me... modeling that is...

so how do i feel it turned out? i think it went pretty well. i actually had a short lived romance and went on dates with a few other guys this year. that blows my semi annual dates of years past out of the water. i guess boys do like makeup, so stop lying that you like it when girls don't wear it.