I know that it has been a while since my last post here. But for good reason: in the last six months I've interned at Albuquerque The Magazine, graduated from the University of New Mexico, and accepted a technical writing job at Access Innovations, LLC. To say I've been more than a little busy would be an understatement.
But now I'm back, bitches! (And better than ever...)
I've updated my website so to include my blog, so you can bet that I'll be posting content weekly, if not daily.
Can't wait to continue this craziness! :)
XOXO,
Brandon
Monday, March 12, 2012
Friday, August 12, 2011
How I know that I'm a shopaholic...
I always hate the 10th of every month.
No, it’s not when I start my man-period. It’s not this month’s full moon… don’t worry, I won’t be turning into a werewolf anytime soon (unless, of course, you count the fact that I haven’t shaved in a week, and I am getting a little grizzly.) And (thankfully) it’s not the anniversary of my latest break-up that I meticulously tally on my secret calendar, because for that to happen, you actually have to be dating someone for longer than three days. (Yes, my longest relationship to date is only three days. Before you judge, just remember that I’m gay… In the gay world, three days is practically three months.)
The 10th of every month is a traumatizing day for me because it's the one day a month when my Visa bill arrives in my mail box.
Scary thought, I know. Every month I get that same feeling of dread. I think to myself: Okay. Breathe. Don’t panic. It can’t be that bad. I mean, it’s a harmless piece of paper. How scary can a few numbers be?
Fucking terrifying. I try to imagine how much I spent in the last month. This month’s bill will be $200… okay, maybe $300… or $350 max.
I close my eyes and start adding up my recent purchases. There was that fabulous new Robert Graham shirt that I ordered for my friend’s birthday from BlueFly, but didn’t arrive until three days later (which, come to think of it, is still hanging in my closet. Mental note: need to find a special occasion to wear it!!); there was lunch with George at Gardunos, and dinner with Brit at Texas Roadhouse. Then, there was that gorgeous new brown and blue rug I bought from Pottery Barn that will look amazing in my living room once I clean it… which was more than $150 come to think of it.
But the Robert Graham shirt was 30 percent off—so that is actually saving money. Right?
As I clutch the envelope in my hands each month, just before opening it, the same thought always crosses my mind: Somehow, someway I’ll win the lottery and pay the bill off all in one payment. Magically, my bank account will overflow and 100 dollar bills will begin growing from the tree outside my apartment. (A guy can dream, right?)
I thumb the envelope to feel its width. Shit. This statement is definitely multiple pages. Ouch. Not going to be fun reviewing this one…
Then, the severe depression sets in. I could delay opening this small piece of mail and pretend that I never received it. I'll pretend the mailman delivered it to the wrong address. That happens all the time, no?
Come to think of it, I don’t need to know what my balance is… I could just send off the minimum $25 and worry about it next month… wait, I did that last month, didn’t I? What’s another month of carefree, blissful ignorance?
My mom always tells me that I have champagne taste but only a beer budget. Thanks to my best friend, Visa, I have champagne taste and a $2,000 spending limit. (Or, $1000… since I'm not sure what my outstanding balance is at the moment and there is no fucking way I have the courage to take a look...)
Now that that trauma is over, it’s definitely time for some serious retail therapy.
Mall, anyone?
-Brandon
No, it’s not when I start my man-period. It’s not this month’s full moon… don’t worry, I won’t be turning into a werewolf anytime soon (unless, of course, you count the fact that I haven’t shaved in a week, and I am getting a little grizzly.) And (thankfully) it’s not the anniversary of my latest break-up that I meticulously tally on my secret calendar, because for that to happen, you actually have to be dating someone for longer than three days. (Yes, my longest relationship to date is only three days. Before you judge, just remember that I’m gay… In the gay world, three days is practically three months.)
The 10th of every month is a traumatizing day for me because it's the one day a month when my Visa bill arrives in my mail box.
Scary thought, I know. Every month I get that same feeling of dread. I think to myself: Okay. Breathe. Don’t panic. It can’t be that bad. I mean, it’s a harmless piece of paper. How scary can a few numbers be?
Fucking terrifying. I try to imagine how much I spent in the last month. This month’s bill will be $200… okay, maybe $300… or $350 max.
I close my eyes and start adding up my recent purchases. There was that fabulous new Robert Graham shirt that I ordered for my friend’s birthday from BlueFly, but didn’t arrive until three days later (which, come to think of it, is still hanging in my closet. Mental note: need to find a special occasion to wear it!!); there was lunch with George at Gardunos, and dinner with Brit at Texas Roadhouse. Then, there was that gorgeous new brown and blue rug I bought from Pottery Barn that will look amazing in my living room once I clean it… which was more than $150 come to think of it.
But the Robert Graham shirt was 30 percent off—so that is actually saving money. Right?
As I clutch the envelope in my hands each month, just before opening it, the same thought always crosses my mind: Somehow, someway I’ll win the lottery and pay the bill off all in one payment. Magically, my bank account will overflow and 100 dollar bills will begin growing from the tree outside my apartment. (A guy can dream, right?)
I thumb the envelope to feel its width. Shit. This statement is definitely multiple pages. Ouch. Not going to be fun reviewing this one…
Then, the severe depression sets in. I could delay opening this small piece of mail and pretend that I never received it. I'll pretend the mailman delivered it to the wrong address. That happens all the time, no?
Come to think of it, I don’t need to know what my balance is… I could just send off the minimum $25 and worry about it next month… wait, I did that last month, didn’t I? What’s another month of carefree, blissful ignorance?
My mom always tells me that I have champagne taste but only a beer budget. Thanks to my best friend, Visa, I have champagne taste and a $2,000 spending limit. (Or, $1000… since I'm not sure what my outstanding balance is at the moment and there is no fucking way I have the courage to take a look...)
Now that that trauma is over, it’s definitely time for some serious retail therapy.
Mall, anyone?
-Brandon
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
And so it begins...
Greetings, cyber world! (Whoever you are.)
This is my arbitrary first post where I detail what the hell I’ll be blogging about. And if I’m being brutally honest (as I often am), I have absolutely no idea.
What do I envision for this blog? Well, first off, I want somewhere to bitch. Everyone needs to release some steam once in awhile, and I am certainly no different. So, this blog will be primarily dedicated to my rants and raves. (Like, for instance, this morning when my electricity was shut off an hour before a big interview. Instead of doing the mature adult thing and getting on the phone with the electric company and sorting out the situation, want to know what my first thought was? OMG! Hair emergency! I am not going to be able to blow dry my hair today. Ah, such is the life of a divo.)
Secondly, I want somewhere to share my juicy stories… because Lord knows I have tons of ’em! If you know me in real life, you already know that I like to talk about myself… A LOT. You’d also know that my life is full of drama. Instead of boring my friends with the juicy details of every one of my hook-ups, instead of calling up my fav girlfriend and gabbing for an hour about the latest sale, I’ll simply post it here and be done with it. Honestly, who needs a psychiatrist when you’ve got a blog to work out all of life’s little problems?
Most importantly, I want this blog to be of the highest journalistic integrity. Kind-of like Carrie Bradshaw’s Sex and the City, minus the fabulous NYC backdrop and relationship advice. Like Dr. Drew on Loveline: putting sex in its proper place at the forefront of absolutely every conversation, minus the STIs and serious stuff. Like Dan Savage’s Savage Love, but without the tirades about the importance of the nucleus family. Sharing tidbits like GossipGirl, minus the anonymity (though, I should note, some names in future posts will be changed to protect the innocent.)
Who knows? I might post other random stuff as I see fit. Basically, I’ll post whatever the hell I like, and I know that you are just going to love it.
A little about me… I’m a freelance writer, which is basically the same as being unemployed. I have a lot of time on my hands this summer and a lot of shit to talk (Did I mention that I have a niche for talking shit?). I’m the kind of person who owns eight of the same sweaters in each color (I need options!) and who would rather spend my entire paycheck on $300 Gucci loafers than paying rent or buying groceries (I just chalk it up to the high price of beauty). Basically, I’m a starving student who likes to see my money hanging in my closet (or, rather, on my bedroom floor because I fucking hate laundry.)
Ready or not, world… here comes my blog!
Stay tuned!
Brandon ;)
This is my arbitrary first post where I detail what the hell I’ll be blogging about. And if I’m being brutally honest (as I often am), I have absolutely no idea.
What do I envision for this blog? Well, first off, I want somewhere to bitch. Everyone needs to release some steam once in awhile, and I am certainly no different. So, this blog will be primarily dedicated to my rants and raves. (Like, for instance, this morning when my electricity was shut off an hour before a big interview. Instead of doing the mature adult thing and getting on the phone with the electric company and sorting out the situation, want to know what my first thought was? OMG! Hair emergency! I am not going to be able to blow dry my hair today. Ah, such is the life of a divo.)
Secondly, I want somewhere to share my juicy stories… because Lord knows I have tons of ’em! If you know me in real life, you already know that I like to talk about myself… A LOT. You’d also know that my life is full of drama. Instead of boring my friends with the juicy details of every one of my hook-ups, instead of calling up my fav girlfriend and gabbing for an hour about the latest sale, I’ll simply post it here and be done with it. Honestly, who needs a psychiatrist when you’ve got a blog to work out all of life’s little problems?
Most importantly, I want this blog to be of the highest journalistic integrity. Kind-of like Carrie Bradshaw’s Sex and the City, minus the fabulous NYC backdrop and relationship advice. Like Dr. Drew on Loveline: putting sex in its proper place at the forefront of absolutely every conversation, minus the STIs and serious stuff. Like Dan Savage’s Savage Love, but without the tirades about the importance of the nucleus family. Sharing tidbits like GossipGirl, minus the anonymity (though, I should note, some names in future posts will be changed to protect the innocent.)
Who knows? I might post other random stuff as I see fit. Basically, I’ll post whatever the hell I like, and I know that you are just going to love it.
A little about me… I’m a freelance writer, which is basically the same as being unemployed. I have a lot of time on my hands this summer and a lot of shit to talk (Did I mention that I have a niche for talking shit?). I’m the kind of person who owns eight of the same sweaters in each color (I need options!) and who would rather spend my entire paycheck on $300 Gucci loafers than paying rent or buying groceries (I just chalk it up to the high price of beauty). Basically, I’m a starving student who likes to see my money hanging in my closet (or, rather, on my bedroom floor because I fucking hate laundry.)
Ready or not, world… here comes my blog!
Stay tuned!
Brandon ;)
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