HI MISS ALICE ✩

This is what I woke up to. Seriously?



*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'( 0_o )'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

September is a hard month for me.
Thoughout my life, a lot of horrible things have happened to me during the month of September.
Something about the fall and coming of winter makes my world a cold place.
The heat of summer burns bright, purging everything. But in winter, everything slows to a halt and is frozen over. And its often then, that I am left behind, or hurt, and I find myself alone, encased in ice until spring.
I wonder if my brain has developed some sort of aversion to this season. Something subconscious and entirely mental, keeping me wary of harsh and sad events to come.
Perhaps the waning daylight leads to darker thoughts.


[Fall in Tokyo, 2011]

One really good thing I look forward to this month is the legendary Vogue September issue. Almost a thousand pages of fashion, makeup, and art. Simple pleasures.
I was flipping through photos, reading, when I came across a picture of one happy little white puppy and a three-page article - Ann Patchett's eulogy for her dog, Rose.
"I would not be making my point, which is that the death of my dog hit me harder than the deaths of many people I have known..."
"I came to realize in the months following Rose's death, months that I referred to myself as being in the ditch, that there was between me and every person I had ever loved some element of separation, and I had never seen it until now. There had been long periods spent apart from the different people I loved, due to nothing more than circumstances. There had been arguments and disappointments, for the most part small and easily reconciled, but over time people break apart, no matter how enormous the love they feel for one another is, and it is through the breaking and the reconciliation, the love and the doubting of love, the judgment and then the coming together again, that we find our own identity and define our relationships.
Except that I had never broken from Rose. I had never judged her or wanted her to be different..."

Perhaps I'm being too gloomy. I should take a nap in a warm patch of sunlight with Katie. And yes, I actually do that sometimes. Simple pleasures.
But right now, I'm tired. Now is time to say goodnight moon.

"Sometimes love does not have the most honorable beginnings, and the endings, the endings will break you in half. It's everything in between we live for."

When I got home today, I mended 12 shirts, 2 skirts, and 3 pairs of pants.
I hate mending and fixing clothing - even though I'm fairly good at it. Its one of those tedious tasks I set aside until the situation becomes dire.
In this case, my irritation at seeing the monstrous mending pile outweighed or overruled my lethargic tendencies.

I live and love by the philosophy that if something is broken, you fix it - you don't throw it away.

I love Alberta Ferretti. I own a gray cardigan by this designer. I altered it today, so I was looking at the care label. It is made of 100% cotton backing and knit wool cables on the front. It says Professional Dry Clean ONLY.
WHY must 100% cotton be dry cleaned??
I'm baffled. I also have tons of designer clothing made of cotton and silk that say "dry clean only". You know what? I throw them in the wash. Cold and gentle all the way - so far no problems.
Silk, especially, is a monofilament that is stronger than most synthetics and manufactured fibres. Its not delicate or fragile.

When I was in college, I did an internship for a designer, whose family owned a garment cleaning (dry cleaners) service. She confessed that in the back, their secret weapon was a regular old washing machine.

My computer died and refuses to even turn on. :(
It's my birthday this Saturday. No plans of shenanigans or rampaging the town as of yet. Such celebrations will probably have to wait for another year, when I'm not so busy. (Yeah right, like that will ever happen.)