Holly Golightly, Meet Lorelai Gilmore

I’ve been blogging for 3 years but here’s the thing; I’m completely amateur about it. Sure, I blog steadily, but honestly? The majority of my blogs have been lamenting evil ex boyfriends, complaining about my favorite celebrity not winning Dancing with the Stars, and talking about how hot Justin Bobby actually is. I have no idea how to make my page pretty, or keep track of visitors, I barely just learned how to use a Reader to keep track of the blogs I do read. The one thing I do know though, is that to have a successful blog, you must have the perfect, kicky, catchy title and theme.

Like, for instance… Breakfast at Wal-Mart

Admittedly, I’m pretty proud of this name, especially considering the ones I kicked around before settling on that. But the fact is, nothing makes me smile more than watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s while drinking Diet Coke out of champagne glasses that I bought at Wal-Mart.

I mean, I’m not the only one that does that, am I? Anyone? Okay then, moving on. There is a reason behind the name.

Everyone has a goal in life… a certain lifestyle they aspire to have. I find myself being torn between two.

Nicole’s Dream Life #1
If you had asked me when I was 18 what I’d be when I was 23, I’d have answered without hesitation that I would be married with one kid and at least another one on the way. I wanted to be a stay-at-home soccer mom with at least 6 kids (I’ll settle for four), the perfect husband and the perfect picket fenced-in house. I was going to be that mom. I wanted to be Kirsten Cohen without the alcohol problem. The hot mom who makes the best chocolate chip cookies on the block.

Um yeah, it hasn’t happened yet.

Nicole’s Dream Life #2
The older I get, the more time I spend writing, and the more time I spend watching reruns of Sex and the City I think… I want that. I want to be writing for a living. Whether it be the next great chick-lit novel, or a column for some trendy magazine, I don’t really care, so long as I’m doing what I love. I want the Upper East Side penthouse with the bar in the corner of the living room for Happy Hour. I want fun. I want to not have to worry about being tied down. I want to be completely independent and let’s face it, be a little bit selfish.

Um yeah, there’s probably not much chance of this happening either. The best I can figure to do is to work out some sort of compromise.

Holly Golightly, allow me to introduce you to Lorelai Gilmore. If only it were that simple, right?

Of course, I could always throw both options out the window and go for Dream Life #3.

You know, the one where I become a Mafia mistress and do nothing but spend my married lover’s hush money on fabulous shoes and accessories to wear on our secret getaways to Cabo San Lucas.

Oh. Am I the only one who finds that a tiny bit appealing?

Hey, at least I have some goals.

Until I figure out how to get to them, you can find me in my quaint little house in Michigan, sipping Diet Coke out of Wal-Mart champagne glasses and practicing my Tyra Banks model stomp in my new heels instead of working on the next chapter of my latest piece of writing.

So much for those goals...

So There Was This Girl...

Written back in 2006, when I was about to turn 25 and thought I knew exactly where life was taking me...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“No, no, no, I’ve got it!” Meghan slams her glass down on the table, the amber colored liquor sloshing over the sides. “It’s I’m twenty-three, which is like twenty-five, which is al-”

“-most mid-twenties!” Natalie and Alex chime in loudly, before all three dissolve into fits of giggles and clink their glasses together. I sit there laughing along with them, but at the same time, I’m fighting the urge to roll my eyes at them. I’m not sure which is sadder yet, that for the last fifteen minutes they have been discussing the intricacies a Jessica Simpson quote from two years ago, or the irritating fact that this was not the first time I had heard this quote in the last month or so, ever since the topic of my birthday had come up. Apparently, the cool thing to do when someone turns twenty-five is to immediately compare them to Jessica Simpson.

Apparently, I’m not cool, because I swear that the next person who screams this quote at me will meet the toe-end of my black boot. Via Spiga be damned, these boots were made for ass-kicking, and I was in the right mood to do it.

“Oh my god!” Natalie’s words are slurred as she points off somewhere behind me and jumps up from her chair. “It’s Damon, I have to talk to him! Come on!” She grabs Meghan’s arm and the two chase after Damon, whoever he is. I’m willing to bet one of them, if not both, have slept with him and now they want to do a round of shots.

Alex looks at me for a second, unsure what to do. She knows I’m staying right where I’m sitting and that the right thing to do would be to sit and keep me company but on the other hand, she wants nothing more than to stand up and race after Brenna and Meghan because god forbid, she miss out on any of their drunken shenanigans. The smile she gives me as I wave her off dismissively reminds me yet again just how much I really dislike going out with these girls and as I sip at my vodka and lemonade, I make a mental note of never doing this again. It’s a note I’ve written myself countless times, but this time, I mean it. I mean, I’m about to be twenty-five, it’s what I’m supposed to do, right? It’s what Jessica Simpson would do, right?

Unfortunately my thoughts go back to that insipid quote and I obsess over it for several minutes more as I absently stir at my drink.

In just three short days I, Casey Parker, will be twenty-five years old. I will be in my mid-twenties, and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing, unless you count a handful of friends I could do without, a slew of random jobs, and more failed relationships than my favorite character on General Hospital.

Yeah, I’ve got nothing.

The thought depresses me as I finish my drink and order another one before I even set my glass down. By now I should have accomplished something with my life. I should have something going on that I can dazzle people with when they ask that horrible question, so what is it that you do? I’ve got none of that, and as I finally set my glass down I realize that this doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing. Look at Jessica Simpson, what does she have to show for the first twenty-five years of her life besides a really creepy dad, an annoying disaster of a sister, and a failed marriage?

Oh, and millions upon millions of dollars in her bank account.

I must be a logical tipsy girl tonight, because a brilliant idea strikes me just then, amidst the haze of raspberry Stoli and lemonade. So what if I wasn’t happily married with the requisite children and a fabulous job just yet? That’s what this coming year would be for! Okay, so the children thing would jumping the gun a bit, but everything else seemed reasonable enough. I could finish school, I could land that career I’ve had my eye on, and most importantly, I could get myself to exactly where I deserved to be.

But first things first I decide, as I watch Natalie and Meghan drag Damon back to our table with Alex in tow. I find myself some new friends.

Isn’t that what Jessica Simpson would do?

-insert screeching needle coming off the record sound-


Three years have passed since that original post on an old deleted blog. Life had been just peachy, as far as lives go. I was in a relationship that (at the time) seemed to be heading toward 'always and forever', I was in a career I absolutely loved, and I was bound and determined to focus on my writing, and that was going to be the year of my novel. The prologue of which, you just read.

Today is December 29th, 2008. In four short days, I'm going to be 28 years old. I am currently single, in a career that is simply okay, and my writing? Well, it never got any further than what you see here.

Will this be the year everything begins to change and fall into place? God, I really hope so, but if not... at least I'll learn some things along the way...

Won't you join me for the ride?