a godsend...

As you may know from my flooded blog posts I have recently taken a trip to Mexico. The weather was amazing, the traveling was fair, and the hotel staff was supreme (Alán, our personal butler was no more than a text message away to stock our mini fridge with coronas, and to adjust the thermostat). It was in paradise, I was having the best of times enjoying the exquisite cuisine, until the unthinkable happened.

Food poisoning.  Really? Again? Not at this resort, WTF!

I had a similar experience this time last year at another resort, one that was sub par in comparison to this gem. Let's just say a significant portion of my trip no longer consisted of laying by the beach, but laying next to a porcelain throne. I had extreme symptoms, fevers that made me  hallucinate ( and yes I'm sure it wasn't the worm in the tequila bottle). 

Needless to say my vacation was rough until I fond TREDA. Thank you sweet baby Jesús for this Mexican medicine. Three short days later I was back in action. The trip came to an end and my stomach took a turn for the worst. One word has come to mind "relapse". 

Oh the joys of traveling, let's just say I'm bringing back one souvenir I wish customs would have seized. 

a well-packed suitcase...

As stated in my last post, I was the least bit excited about packing my suitcase for my trip to Cancun. I was so worried that I would forget something, not to mention be over the 50 lb. limit. Two attempts and a dose of my anxiety medicine, I found packing success.

On a recent trip to Italy my strategy was fit any, and all things in the suitcase. Toss it in, expand the zipper, and sit on it for leverage, and zip with all my might. I soon realized that when unpacking my suitcase the inside was disheveled, my clothes were a wrinkled mess, and sadly my Moroccan Oil (aka liquid gold for my hair) had shattered into a million tiny oily pieces.

In preparation for this trip I read an article that displayed and excellent visual of what "a well-packed suitcase" should in fact look like. The verdict?...you just have to roll with it. Roll everything, dresses, sweater, socks, you name it roll EVERYTHING!!! I thought I had discovered the Holy Grail. Everything fit, my clothes were neat and tidy, I was ecstatic! Now all that's left to do is to cross my fingers, and hope my duds don't exceed the unreasonable weight limit.
Wish me luck!

a package worth waiting for...

As stated in my previous post, I have literally been foaming at the mouth for a particular "dime-piece"(the Louis Vuitton Keepall 55 Duffle with shoulder strap, to be exact) to join my LV collection. After two failed attempts to deliver the package from the FedEx driver, whom I believe has A.D.H.D. I did indeed enlist the help from my 86 year old Nonna, to literally be the FedEx "watchdog". My Nonna would refer to the FedEx driver as a "sempliciotto", which I soon translated on my iphone. Now I know exactly where I get my sharp tongue.

Finally after the third, and final attempt this beauty came into my possession.
The cardboard package didn't stand a chance between me and my box knife. I opened the box, I was swooning uncontrollably.
The first whiff of Venchetta Leather... I knew it was love.

"Fabulous things come to those who wait".

an anxiety-packed suitcase...

The art of packing is exactly that...an art. On paper you would think I would be a fantastic packer. I am well-organized, I know what to wear for any occasion, and I'm quite creative when it comes to sticking and shoving things in random places and compartments. So it sounds like I'm a good packer, guess again. I attempted laying out all of the things that I am considering to take to my destination in the sun. I soon realized that there are weight restrictions and two of my dress alone weigh at least 15 lbs. That's when the anxiety kicked in. I now am freaking out, second guessing all of my packing decisions. Do I have enough? Am I forgetting something? What will this weigh? Do I really need two pairs of nude wedges? Spanx! Where are my Spanx, for the love of God? Needless to say I had to up my dosage on the anti-anxiety meds. My nerves soon calmed, but I was still left with unanswered questions. That's when I turned to my mom for advice. She then proceeded to tell me that I am too high-strung and aggressive (as if I didn't already know), she said the only cure would be the practice of yoga. My mother informed me to pack the necessities and leave the rest (in my head I was thinking that everything is a necessity). I guess I could leave a few pairs of rubber flip flops behind. She also told me that if I couldn't part with anything else and I'm still over the required weight limit to just pay the damn fifty dollars and be done with it.What a relief. I am going to do a little research on packing the most perfect suitcase, and I'll be sure to share all of the insider's secrets. Photos will be sure to follow.
Wish me luck!

a slight hot mess...

This past Sunday as you all may know from my previous post was my 23rd birthday. Sunday was actually Easter Sunday, amongst other things. I hate to sound snotty, but sharing your birthday with the Lord's resurrection, really hard to compete with. By the way I have been referring to that lovely Sunday as "My birthday celerection". Not that my weekend wasn't special, it was just sort of rough clubbing on Good Friday, and being completely hungover on Holy Saturday. Thank God this Easter/Birthday mystery only happens every 10 years, ( by the grace of holy Jesuś, there was a leap thrown in there to keep this instance from happening on my 21st, as so planned). I was however pleased to see my entire family, even if that meant that my birthday gift was wrapped in Easter paper.
Here is picture of my lovely birthday cake.

a shuffle with the UPS driver...

So...I'm leaving for my belated birthday trip to Cancun (aye, aye, aye!!!), I leave in exactly 8 days, 39 minutes, and 40 seconds, but honestly I'm not counting or anything. I have done so many crunches I want to vomit, as many lunges and calf raises I've done, I'm sure I could squat the house. As previously mentioned in my post about online shopping, I've done just that. I have seriously shopped online for three solid months. I'm almost positive that I am the hardest person to fit. Simply going into any store and leaving with something is a long shot. Not to mention the overall shopping in Oklahoma is weak sauce, thus my only option is the world wide web. I have built relationships with these online client specialists. They know my sizes, my previous purchases, and low and behold all of my credit card information (how convenient?). My all-time favorite sales associate has to Chris at the Louis Vuitton Store located inside of Saks Fifth Avenue in Beverly Hills, California. I will try to contain my ever-growing addiction to the luxurious label. After about 30 boxes that have arrived to my home, I kept the front-runners and sent back the rejects, feeling somewhat relieved and accomplished. Although my dad seems to have an opinion as to why I'm bringing 9 bikinis on a 7 day trip? Dad, a girl needs options! Duh. Now all that is left to do is to sort through these beauties and dust my suite case off.
Here is a glimpse of the ocean view from our hotel.

a Pope without Prada...

As many of you all may know, our newly elected Pope Francis is unlike any of his predecessors. Francis is a simple man who like the saint, has chosen to leave his life of wealth and excess. Francis kept his simple ways even as the leader of the Catholic Church. Francis left the luxurious vestments trimmed in fur behind as well has his sold gold fisherman's ring and the ever famous custom made red Prada shoes. I'm not going to lie, I shed a few tears when I heard the news. I wasn't so much sad that he  chose not to wear designer duds, but more or less breaking a tradition. Pope Francis is trying to make a statement by bringing the world back to their roots and leaving out excess and unnecessary luxuries. Change needed to happen, Francis has made a statement. I guess the only way for me to get over this time of mourning, is to simply buy a pair of red Prada shoes!

a glimpse of Prada...

I do have a strange fascination with the label Prada that I have yet to figure out where it stems from. It could be a number of things, my heritage, the lifestyle it represents, or it could just be the fabulous display of ads. Prada is a legacy, it is a trademark, and holds its own in the fashion world. here is an example of one great Prada ad that is representing their new fragrance Candy.
 Fantastico!