28 February 2017

iso: a new best friend i mean boots, new best boots.

Look at these lil bbs, they've been with me since 2013 and, having been worn almost every single day since I acquired them, have only needed one re-heeling to get to where they are today which is New York with a decisive hole in their beautiful teeny sole. Not to mention the leather is beginning to ere on the side of saggy and a lil bit sad. So. New boots.

I'm sick as frick of chelseas, thought for a minute that sock boots would be my next big thing but they turned out to be everyone's next big thing and I'm Over It so maybe it's back to chelseas anyway? Anyway. Let's give this a study, lemme kno what you think.

but tbh also if you live in the greater nyc area and want to be gal pals hmu, you kno?

23 February 2017

Day 1

It's day one in the city and it's strange to be back. Turns out New York is louder than Utah, and I'm sleepier here than ever before. I vacillate between peace and excitement and fear and doubt. Unemployment is both a joy and a nightmare. I can do whatever I want all day long! But what I actually do is worry and worry and apply to jobs and write emails and edit resumes and also did I mention worry. Excited to become something more than I am now. Scared that I'm feeding into a culture and society that needs to be overturned (Thanks, Jessa!). It's familiar and foreign all at once. I'm worried about what to wear. But excited all the same! Sitting between committed and uncommitted is an odd place to be, but we're gonna give it a go and be so amazingly grateful for two beautiful grandparents who will let me sleep in their living room until I find my feet. I suppose this is what living life is; pulling yourself together, excited and scared, excited and scared, excited and scared, and so on and so forth.

14 February 2017

begin again

As it happens, I only feel vaguely ashamed to be posting about pajama-dressing so late in the game. It just didn't particularly strike me when it was *actually cool and trendy, about a million seasons ago* But believe me I am now STRICKEN. Approaching spring I inevitably revert to two personas; girl on the prairie or girl on a european study abroad. According to my silk pajama fixation, I'm feeling the study abroad girl vibes hard core right now because simply picture me, a gal, in a silk get-up eating gelato literally anywhere but actually preferably Barcelona or Rome. Niiiiiiiiice.

05 July 2016

in which rosie learns a big lesson and makes a big change after crying for seven straight hours

Yesterday I saw a post on Instagram that launched me into absolute despair. This isn't the first time this has happened, to me or probably to you, or to anyone, I'm sure. And in the midst of crying so hard in a public place that a lady had to ask me if I was okay because I was freaking kids out, the fact that it came down to an Instagram post was insult to injury. I'm so lonely right now. It's been Instagram posts that have helped me get here and it was an Instagram post that finally pushed me to a breaking point. And I just keep asking myself *why did I have to see that, why did I even have to know.*

I feel tragically beholden to remaining plugged in. Socially obliged to a relentless, involuntary consumption of details about peoples lives that perpetuate my loneliness and upend my self-worth on a daily basis and I just sit here and I let it. I let it change the way I feel, I let it change the way I perceive reality. Don't I love myself more than that? It's disgusting and it's horrible and it's tragic. And the only solution so far has been to try to present ourselves in ways that make someone else feel lonely and less than. So we can keep up. 

A few months ago I made a new friend, and she told me that pre-friendship she used to follow me on Instagram but had to stop because *I was one of those people who's lives just seem perfect to the point of making you feel like trash.* This is someone I cherish dearly and am so incredibly grateful for. And I had hurt her before I even knew her. Without even knowing it. And it makes me absolutely sick on so many levels. 
  • Firstly, I've had my fair share of shit this year. Things have been consistently difficult and hard and scary. If people see my life as perfect, not only is it painful to me that I'm unintentionally perpetuating that lie, it's also putting up a barrier between me and people that I desperately desperately need. How can we connect and uplift and commiserate when someone's life seems inhumanly beyond the need to connect and uplift and commiserate? Everyone carries sadness. Everyone. 
  • Secondly, it absolutely breaks my heart to think I am or is or was ever part of causing another girl to suffer in the ways I've suffered. Jealousy and self-doubt and longing and envy are poisonous and I know it because I've felt it all. I've followed and unfollowed, I've accidentally happened upon posts that make me wish I could cease to exist. I know what that is and I don't ever want anyone to feel that on account of something I seem to be. I want girls to stick together. I want us to be on a team. We have to be on each other's team. 
The bottom line is, I just want it to be over. I want Instagram and Facebook to all to go away, and I want society to change, and I never want to have to see the things that make me feel jealous or worthless ever again. But since that's not real life, and that's not going to happen, all I can do is remove myself from the problem. If I'm going to create things, I want to create things for people, things people can find solace in and things that create peace. Not a damn persona.

I'm done. I don't know how or what that exactly means, I don't know how that will manifest in the things I post or what platforms I post them on, but I want you to know, if you're reading this, that I am done with being part of the problem. I don't want to be part of the problem. My life isn't perfect. I'm sorry if you thought so. I love you and we need each other and we need each other to be real and honest and good and kind. Deal?