Boyfriend Dates a Fashion Student

The last few weeks have been more frustrating and challenging than I ever thought possible for a twenty-something alcoholic day-drinking lover of life. You see I sometimes get a neat idea to become an overachiever, which usually ends in a giant mess of procrastination, perfectionism and french words only my mouth from the south allows me to say. Case in point: I am currently in the process of planning a major fashion show for my college. Boyfriend is currently in the process of avoiding my horrifying stress-induced meltdowns that happen periodically throughout the week. The fashion show is in two weeks and Boyfriend hasn't made eye contact in four. I think it's about time I give him some slack and recognize that it is not easy to date a fashion student. Here are some reasons why:

1.)We like to work...a LOT. The average college student attends four years of university, possibly while working at the local coffee shop to fund cell phone bills. But the average college student does not work a real-life job in their future career until after graduation. Somehow the fashion industry missed this memo, and instead we work as slaves full-time employees interns. The average fashion student attends four years of university, in which time he/she works at least three internships, volunteers for at least ten events, joins multiple clubs/organizations, and holds down a part-time job to fund shopping addictions...all while looking much more fabulous than those students who attend class in sweatpants. This alone leaves very little time for someone like Boyfriend, but add to it the fact that we have a child to care for and Boyfriend can feel downright neglected.

2.)We appreciate the finer things in life. By appreciate I, as a self-respecting fashion student, am in no way implying that I must carry a Louis Vuitton to coordinate with my Louboutins. If I had those items I wouldn't need to go to a school that teaches me about them and Boyfriend wouldn't have to suffer the tragic life of dating a fashion student. Regardless, this can be a challenging feat for men who are not...fashionably inclined. They don't understand why we enjoy browsing in every boutique we will never shop in. Because obviously looking at what some of the most influential names in our culture are creating for the world of fashion is way more boring than watching someone play XBOX for hours on end.


3.) We communicate differently. If you are not a fashion student, please ask one what they thought of [insert designer name here] latest collection and let me know if you understand a word that is said. If you are a fashion student: omg you get how ridic this whole thing is. I DIE. Btw, that skirt is bananas.

4.) We don't usually dress appropriately. Well, this is debatable. We, as worshipers of the Book of Wintor, understand that to be fashionable does not always mean to be comfortable. Boyfriend has, on more than one occasion, expressed frustration for my need to wear "impractical shoes" while walking around The City. I however, live by the same rule as many other fashion students: if it does not compliment my outfit it is no longer appropriate or practical. Okay so maybe, just maybe Boyfriend's logic sometimes prevails and I am forced into submission by way of complaints about sore feet for the duration of our date. I really don't know why this is even on the list.

5.) Some might call us crazy. It is a valid point. After all, you do have to be nuts to choose an industry where you are over-worked, underpaid and selling/promoting/merchandising material items you worship yet won't be able to afford until your body isn't cute enough to wear it. But it is the most glamorous, exciting and challenging industry one could choose to chase after a dream in. If you're on the outside with Boyfriend you won't understand, but if you're on the inside as a learner of this glorious industry you know what I am talking about. We may be completely insane and our industry might seem quite vain, but the world's economy would literally fall apart if the fashion industry did not exist. We're important, and we know it.

Boyfriend has recently taken solace in the fact that the fashion show is almost over with. As the director, I am taking pleasure in the fact that Boyfriend has been extra accommodating lately, probably to avoid another epic meltdown stressing me further. He's learned over the years that pushing the buttons of a fashion student on the edge is a very, very bad mistake. Luckily, since his wardrobe has improved tremendously, Boyfriend finds these points to be tiny in comparison to the benefits of dating a fashion student.




P.s. if you haven't already, please go read last week's post and leave us your comment! Boyfriend and I will be visiting one of your favorite places in The City this week! 

Boots and Boyfriend Make Memories

After quite the blog hiatus I am officially back in business and prepared to once more humiliate Boyfriend share the story of young love.

Over the last few weeks Boyfriend and I have begun our final descent in this trip back to The Southernland, and it's left me quite depressed. The City has been our home for three years. It's where we made our worst mistakes, best decisions, created our family, and began what was supposed to be our life as Manhattanites. Will I miss it? Absolutely, with every ounce of my little southern soul. Boyfriend? He hasn't stopped grinning since we made the decision to move back...in November.

But regardless of Boyfriend's incessant optimism, I do find that there are many things we will miss about our current stomping grounds. Here's a list of the places I will lay awake at night crying about we wish we could take with us:

1.) Osso Buco. The spot of our first date in The City. It's Italian, has cute little candles on each table, and is everything two broke 20-somethings ever wanted in a favorite neighborhood restaurant. Boyfriend and I would often stop by here and relive the magic and naivety that came with our first few months in The City when we thought cloth napkins meant dining fancy.

2.) Levain Bakery. Since I could eat I have had a very unhealthy and sick obsession with any and all cookies. It's developed into a much more sophisticated habit overtime, of course, as I no longer consume a pack of Chips Ahoy a day, but instead prefer the classiness of a fresh-baked Nestle instead. For my birthday last year, Boyfriend knowingly took me on a walking tour of the best chocolate chip cookies in The City. I have never felt more in love with a single human, including my fleeting moments of uncontrollable teenage lust over Justin Timberlake in the 90's. In short, our favorite on the list was Levain Bakery. These cookies are not even worthy of words and if you have not already, you absolutely must try one immediately. Now. Go.

3.) The Highline. Looking for a different scene than our old Harlem neighborhood, Boyfriend and I made the trek out to the Highline last summer and spotted Hayden Panettiere, the highlight of Boyfriend's young life. He choked and failed to woo her, but we continued on and found the park built on an old train track to be a fabulous place to people watch and gossip over street meat. It's a true City experience, and nothing like it exists in The Southernland.

4.) The Museum of Sex. Nothing says romance quite like a sex museum. At least that's what I was hoping for when I took Boyfriend here for our first Valentine's date in The City. We spent over an hour giggling and gawking at the incredibly graphic exhibits, but it was an inappropriate experience that bonded us and opened our lines for communication. Really, I just wanted to see Boyfriend squirm as he checked out the torture devices. I recommend this place for a fantastically awkward first date or any couple who has no sense of humor...the sex museum is completely serious. There is absolutely no laughing allowed.

5.) Our Spot. I can't highlight this and give you readers the link because there is no website. There is not a Yelp review or Groupon to help get you in here. Our Spot is a place Boyfriend found for us the first week he moved to The City. He took me there on a surprise picnic and we've treasured it since. It's a small patch of rock in Central Park hidden under trees by a lake. You have to climb to get to it and it's not a place people frequent often. We sat by the water on the driest part of the rock and watched birds bathe right next to us (not the disgusting pigeons...actual, romantic-scene-setting birds). Boyfriend kissed me while I ate my tuna sandwich and it was one of the calmest moments we've found since inhabiting this concrete jungle.

These places have some of our best memories. Boyfriend thinks we'll be fine without them, that our memories alone will serve us well. I simply cannot fathom going the rest of my life without tasting that delicious Levain cookie or searching for celebs at The Highline. However, we're still moving on to The Southernland soon and will eventually replace these landmarks with new ones. But for the time being, we're trying to enjoy our current home to the fullest. I now challenge you, the reader, to help us find one more special place to add to our collection. Where would you go if you could only go one more place in The City? We'll try it out and let you know if it's as life changing as the Museum of Sex, and you let us know if you try any of our favorite places. 

Introducing, William!

Boyfriend was on his best behavior this week, bringing me all sorts of "gifts" and thanking me for the dinners I cooked. He even *gasp* did the entire sink of dishes without my asking. Apparently, someone's been reading my blog. Because of Boyfriend's complete lack of uselessness this week, my usual compilation of complaints seems almost cruel and unusual. Thus, I've decided to take this opportunity to introduce you to someone very special in our lives, our proudest accomplishment, William. Something you may not have known? Boyfriend and I are the overly-eager adoptive parents to one very lucky young man. Here's his story...

William, born on December 19th, 2006, came into my life only days before Christmas of 2007 in the Panera Bread parking lot. It was meant to be from the moment he dramatically leaped into my arms in front of a crowded patio. Nearly escaping death by shelter, William instantly fell in love with my warm bed and forced affection. For the next three years we rode side-by-side in my pickup truck Southernland-style while listening to nonsense punk music. William received a weekly allowance and was groomed twice a month at the local Petsmart. He was my baby and probably the most over-sized accessory dog ever actually pulled off.

William wearing a bib, naturally. 

Boyfriend joined our duo three years later and has been making life difficult for us ever since. He's taught William nonsense "animalistic activties" such as aggression, chasing squirrels (see last week's post), and one habit for which I am most resentful. Together, William and Boyfriend constantly hatch elaborate schemes to harass and agitate the enemy - me. 

William sent this as a Valentine to someone special. 

Never to be at the end of a losing fight, I of course stake revenge in my own way. Take for instance the time William could not stop scratching his face, leaving it raw and sore. He'd spend his time purposefully rubbing his bloody nose on my pants and comforter. Boyfriend and I bought a plastic cone to put on him, much to my delight his dismay. Then, to further the humiliation, I wrapped William's feet in men's socks and posed him for a photo. His expression says it all. I win. 

Sometimes I worry he hates me. 

And when my plans to embarrass my little over-emotional ball of fur fail? I dress him in ridiculous outfits and parade him for the neighbors to gawk at. My favorite is the elf costume that comes out around Christmas when William can't keep his nose away from my candy canes. 

Boyfriend is most fond of William's sweater set. 

Do I realize we sound like a crazy couple who takes their pet far too seriously? Yes, of course. We take everything far too seriously. The worst fight we have begins in the kitchen sink. But William is our baby; he has his own little personality that fits right into our little family. Boyfriend often refers to us as William's Mommy and Daddy, which I don't dispute. I mean, in a three year relationship I had to find something else to talk about besides Boyfriend's theory of a zombie apocalypse. The bonus? I don't actually have to make one of those awful snotty-nosed crying things, Boyfriend is perfectly satisfied with the son he's got.