Hmmm...

What does one do with a blog? Rant and rave? Put into words what cannot be expressed verbally, just mentally? I'm just going to take this whole blog thing nice and easy. Maybe I'll make an alter-ego through it, maybe I wont. Maybe I'll answer may own questions on life.

Man, this is sounding way too serious for me.

I grew up in Alaska; in a town of about 40,000 people. My parents managed to find the only high school with 50 people, (including the teachers). They wanted to protect me from boys, or from myself, I guess I'll never know. Where my love for clothes came from is a mystery, because at the said high school we had to wear uniforms. Unfortunately, not the cute plaid skirt uniforms, they were more along the line of cotton afghans in the lovely colors of royal blue or black in sizes ranging from tarp, tarper, and tarpiest. It made it easy for the mornings though, I'll grant them that.

Alaska, great for most and home for me. I can imagine that I'm this great hiker, granola,hippie person, it's easy to imagine. But, in reality I am not. I'm more prone to go home and get sucked into tv land or a great chick-lit book than to wander my own "home". Why, I don't exactly know. It could because the bugs are grody, it could be that the shoes are ugly, it could be that something funny is on cable, or even worse. I could get sucked into facebook, refreshing my page about 100 times... Just in case my "friend" posts something new about what they had for dinner. I ponder these things at night, when I'm going to bed, like why did so-and-so waste that much time telling everyone about the new shirt she bought was on mega-sale!?! This in turn makes me a statistic, I am everyone.

I guess what I am getting at is, why wasn't I the girl out there finding the great shirt on mega-sale and telling everyone about it.

So for now I see that I am making this blog about me...

Welp, here goes it...

Someone told me the other day that I should start a blog. I've flirted with the idea myself a few times the past few years. I told myself "why not, it's like keeping a journal only way less private." So I've started my digital chronicles...

-Autobiography-

I'm in my early 20's, I'm a receptionist, I'm ambitious (in my head), but afraid of failure. I'm in love with a bartender. I have a few girlfriends that I love more than life itself. I've been married. I've been divorced. Everything else is yet to happen. I'm selfish but I mean well, really. I'm a space-cadet. I love clothes, I love shoes, I love reading, I love red bull, I love great bargains. I love, I love, I love.

Obviously I don't do the whole "structure" thing, I just do. I'm a list keeper, but I keep them on mini post-it's and am constantly loosing them. I'm the type of girl that keeps a tooth-brush in her car because I forget to brush them about once a week.

I have 2 dogs, one is a regular Maltese (Biscuit) and the other is wal-mart special Maltese (Harry). They are bff's and adorable, not to mention perfect. Except maybe the one time Harry peed on my Ugg boots.

I love my job, but... there is always a but. I am a receptionist. I had someone in the office last week tell me that I was in a dead end job, they just told me point blank like that. Thanks for pointing out that I make your job seem seamless, and that you don't notice all the work that I do; I made an icy response "I know that being a receptionist, is just being a receptionist". In my head I was like "DOI". Pam Beesly from the office says it best, "I don't think it's many little girls' dream to be a receptionist."

One of these days I'll figure out what I want to do when I grow up.