It’s really convenient when you use your neighbor’s wireless signal. I was even bold enough to knock on my neighbor’s door and ask for his password (I blame desperation). But now that I stopped using it for a few weeks, I can’t get back on. So, instead of shelling out to get my own signal, I’ve decided I’ll just use the signal at the coffee shop when I need it. Thus, more in-public pajama time!
Whenever I’m not working or socializing, I pretty much live in either my yoga clothes or my pjs. Or a combination of both.
I feel fashionally challenged in San Diego. I cannot keep up with you people. Last night I went to a party and everyone looked so freaking put together. I am clueless on some how my friends, who don’t have regular incomes, always look so stunning.
I think about buying new stuff… and then I go to yoga class instead or I get a snack. I would like to hire someone to just buy me clothes and shit. Can I do that? Cause getting me to an actual store is… well… difficult.
Can’t we just all go hiking or something?
The first time I moved to San Diego, 8 years ago, my friend Eric peaked into my closet and came out telling me he’d never seen a girl’s closet with so few clothes. I tried to explain I’d been working for the Forest Service and only really needed a couple outfits for that job, but he still shook his head in amazement.
The problem comes when it’s time to go out with friends (or go to work everday as I’m now experiencing). There have been times when I don’t actually want to go out because I have nothing to wear (literally!).
On Friday night, I bought a yoga shirt on sale for $27.00 and I was so hesitant to buy it. Then I wore it on Saturday to class and LOVED it. It felt soooooooo good. But do you know when the last time I bought a new yoga shirt was before that?
Here’s some numbers to break it down:
- 4.5 years: the last time I bought new yoga gear (no joke).
- 28: the number of yoga classes I’ve gone to this year alone.
OH MY GOD!!!!
This is the shit I need to remind myself of when I want to quit the j.ob. and try to be (nearly) homeless again. It’s not a good idea. In fact, it’s crazy.
It IS a possibility that I can go back to my previous sleeping-in schedule in the future. But first I really, really, really, really, really need to upgrade EVERYTHING. Which means I need to work for awhile for an employer and BE FUCKING NORMAL. I just got my health/dental/vision insurance cards in the mail and it’s kind of cool to have those things.
There is a giant part of me that doesn’t give a shit about fitting in — and in fact wants to be “different.” But then I’m at my happiest when I do fit in. Like last night — I am welcome to this huge 200-person party in open arms by friends — amazing friends — and in those times it feels like I’ve made it.
Excuse me as I realize something here.

This blurry school photo is from the event. I'm in a surf club called the San Diego Surf Ladies (even though I don't own a surf board). I'm the blonde dot in the back row below the orange and purples lights. And I'm looking at this photo and realizing not everyone here is a fastionista. Just me being werid.
You know, sometimes when you spell out the truth to yourself and see it in your face, it’s motivating.
Like, if I knew a girl who never bought herself anything even though she needed it, I would yell at her to GO SHOPPING and suck it!
I have been reading this book by a famous designer and it makes me realize I should present myself a little better to the world (awesome, as I blog about how I’m going to wear more pajamas). I think if you pair those pj’s with some sexy red high heels you’re golden. Right?
Does anyone know where a shoe store is?
By the way, as I wrote this blog on an older laptop (which also needs to be upgraded), the letter “p” stopped working. ARE YOU SERIOUS?!?!?
I swear this shit is alive.