Shameful Self-Promotion?

So I'm a freelance writer, and this year, my very first book will be published. It's basically authorship on a technicality, since I was hired by a marketing client, but my name is on amazon.com, and my grandma says it totally counts.

I'm bound and determined to use this opportunity to get legitimate book and editorial work, so I've spent the last week putting together self-promotion pieces with writing samples and pithy turns of phrase.

Forgive me, Reader(s), for I have sinned in the process. I bought some new stuff: Avery labels, tissue paper, gorgeous handmade fabric-lined 9x12 cyan envelopes, paper, and paper shopping bags. If it's any consolation (am I consoling you or me here?), the paper is Kraft, made from 100% post consumer waste, and so are the shopping bags. And I did all the printing at home on my laser and Epson printers.

I think I made the best possible choices under the circumstances, and yet, I still feel dirty. I was powerless against those damn envelopes.

Clotheshorsing Around

On Saturday I had my first brush with the most pernicious of my buying addictions: clothes. HCB took my car to run errands while I was at yoga, and afterwards, I found myself on Haight Street with an hour to spare. Haight Street is the undisputed Mecca of used clothing.

32 minutes later, I am the proud owner of:
one sexy GFFerre blouse ($45)
one slinky J. Mendel silk tank ($24)
two Michael Stars tees ($12 and $3!!!)
one C&C California tee ($13.50)
one James Perse tee ($12)
one saucy Mblem by Mandy Moore number ($11)
one no-name supercute striped tee ($10)

Hot Diggiteh! This Nothing New thing is no match for a Steely-Eyed Bargain Huntress such as myself.

32 minutes after that, at home:
HCB points out that one Michael Stars tee is stained (oddly, not the $3 one)
the C&C and James Perse tees are too short (I hate you, Long Torso)

Later that night:
My friend Liza says my sexy GFFerre top looks a little Renaissance Faire. (See me, Liza and my saucy wench stylings below.)

It seems my hunger for retail therapy rendered me blind and trigger happy.

JANUARY: A recap

Blog posts are supposed to be short, but it's been a month fraught with unforeseen challenges. If you get bored, skip to January 12th.

January 5th:
I am wild with desire for homemade pumpkin muffins. I have all the ingredients, but discover that I sold my large muffin tins at the garage sale we had before moving into Ugly Betty (the nickname for our tiny, ugly, $$-saving apt). The old "tins" were made of silicon, and I was afraid they would give us cancer. So I sold them to someone else. I should probably examine this behavior.

January 6th:
I have been to three Goodwills, and no muffin tins.

January 11th:
I dream of muffins. In other news, my favorite and only wristwatch breaks in an irreparable way.



January 12th:
What the %$#@%^&! My trusty five-year-old iBook, which has never once forsaken me, has a fatal meltdown. To fix the logic board will cost $500, more than the computer is worth, with no guarantee that it will be fixed for good. Did I mention that I write (on a computer) for a living? My Hot Canadian Boyfriend gives me one of his old watches. Still no muffins.



January 14th:
Oh Steve Jobs and your sexy talk! The MacBook Air. So light, so suave, so purportedly earth-friendly! Steve, Steve, Steve. Could your timing be more opportunistic?

January 20th:
A trek to the ultimate vintage cooking store, Cookin', provides me with the shiniest, most professional, most indestructible, least used-looking used muffin tins a girl could ever hope for. Better than Williams Sonoma, and only $11! While there, I also purchase wholly unnecessary (but used) placemats.

January 23rd:
My genius HCB performs a hard drive transplant, placing my iBook brain in a vintage Carrie Bradshaw-era PowerBook he had lying around the house. I now lack the processing power for YouTube, but that's probably for the best. Hopefully this fix will get me through the year.

January 30th:
Despite availability of muffin tins and looming expiration date of necessary dairy products, I have yet to make muffins. But I will. I will make them and I will post pictures of their yumminess cast in the romantic afternoon light. And then you too will be wild with desire for homemade pumpkin muffins.

It Begins.

Actually, it's already begotten. Starting 1 Jan 2008, I committed myself to a year of not buying anything new.

Now this isn't Foraging 101. There are some exceptions. The following items must come to me shiny and pristine, otherwise I'll spend the whole year inventing new illnesses for myself. Or die of starvation.

consumables: toothpaste, soap, cleaning products, paper, food, underwear, socks, toothbrushes, cocktails, wildly expensive skincare serums

experiences: movies (in theater), concerts, art openings, travel, dinner out

The rest of my yearly needs I'm either going to buy used or abstain from buying altogether. It will be interesting to see how much, or if , this list changes. January has already had its share of surprises...