These photos were taken by my hilarious and talented friend Candice Borden. I have a hard time not smiling for photos, and have actually been told to "relax [my] face" by the melancholy people of Misshapes back in the day. So since Candice was looking for some more serious portraits, she told me to pretend my hypothetical puppy just died. Which of course just made me burst out laughing...for some reason. But once I got myself together, I thought about how people are probably going to make some really hilarious comment about how I resemble Justin Bieber for the millionth time (which they did), and got super inspired to look incredibly pissed, hence the first photo. The second picture is the hideous result of me thinking about dead kittens or something. But yeah, I am a grown ass woman with tits and makeup on, so I'd appreciate it if one did not compare me to an adolescent boy who stole my haircut that I've been butchering on myself since 2007.
Anyway. I am now the proud owner of this handsome kitten backpack. The boy got it for me for me as one of my many cat themed Christmas presents. (There was also a change purse, which you will see later in this post, and a sweater, which you will hopefully see in a future post.) Now if only I could get my own kitten to ride around in said kitten backpack. Then my life would be complete.
Here is some more of my Xmas loot...
- vintage Dooney & Bourke "all weather leather" purses I bought with my xmas money
- books by my favorite hilarious sibling authors
- tiny wooden artist's model from my cousin
- aforementioned kitten coin purse
- wild cat skull with articulated jaw necklace
- Instax mini camera
After Christmas comes my birthday. I turned 24, or 14, or 87 or something. The boy made me breakfast in bed, took me on a horse and carriage ride with hot cocoa through snowy Central Park, bought me a delicious dinner, and let me win at Connect Four...four times in a row. The next day my best friend surprised me with this enormous cupcake at work. While I was home in Florida, my amazing fam got me this adorable metal kitten business card holder, for when I actually get my shit together and start making money instead of complaining about my boyish looks and professing my cat obsession on the interweb. My aunt suggested that until aforementioned shit is together, I could put condoms in it, and call it my "pussy tray". Words of wisdom? Trend setting? TMI?
Oh, and this is how my dad celebrates Christmas.
(Also, does anyone else drape Mardi Gras beads on their Christmas tree, or is that just my family?)
Ok, I think we're all caught up now.