Moody Blues, New Shoes

I was having one of those days where nothing had gone right since I woke up. It was one hurdle after another today keeping me on my toes and stress levels high. The weather mimicked my melancholy mood with dark skies and rain (kind of like November weather). I thought perhaps a full moon was looming judging by the way technology and people were acting today. Basically stuff just wasn't going the way it was planned earlier in the week. Then I remembered that Mercury is in retrograde which explains why nothing is going forward and and everything is stalled.

It was just a weird day and a somewhat unpleasant one. I'm glad it's almost over. I woke up with such optimism and had hopes of hearing some much delayed good news, the kind of news that could propel me into fast forward at lightning speed. But alas, it didn't happen, in fact it was putting out non stop fires all day long. In the evening, I finally had to step outside in the rain to put out the inner fire and er, run end of the month errands as it is after all Leap Day and tomorrow is March. Strangely enough being in the rain helped, as if washing away the disappointment of the day. When I returned home, I was feeling calm.

I took a hot shower, washed my hair and blow dried it straight and sleek (frizzy hair makes me look angry). I  decided to change my mood by changing my clothes (something I've never done before), usually when I'm feeling like this, I just want to get into some comfy, cozy clothes for an anticipated carb high on the couch. But I talked myself out of this by looking in the mirror with my bright berry lips (I should wear this lipstick more often, my teeth look amazingly white).  I opened my closet and was so proud of the colour coordinated clothes neatly hanging in unison on the hangers, instead of the pile that had slid off the hangers onto the floor only to be hung in the wrong section and then forgotten about. I was reminded of how successful "Project Closet" was this past weekend. I was able to see so many familiar but new clothes, it was if my clothes were speaking to me, "Wear me". After picking out a sexy blue dress and trying it on, I was pleased that it fit (always a bonus). After going through the previously forgotten clothes of my new improved closet, my eyes drifted towards a shiny new shoe box with a pair of Nine West black suede ankle boots with a chunky high heel and a snazzy gold zipper, it looked and felt luxurious. I put on the boots and strutted around in my bedroom with some cool tunes and the next thing I knew I was feeling good :)

All of a sudden I was a mad yet fashionable scientist congratulating myself with this unexpected yet successful experiment that distracted me from my woes and most importantly the fridge. I mean I'm not in a carb coma on the couch, mindlessly changing channels and unable to move. (Although my new favourite show Revenge is on later tonight, I love Madeline Stowe).

As the endorphins were released while twirling around like a crazed whirling dervish, it occurred to me that one of my favourite singer's, Jose James is in town this Friday. This means that I have the perfect opportunity to wear my sexy ensemble for a little visual love from strangers, while I forget about all my troubles, as I groove to Jose's soulful voice at The Great Hall. Perfect! That's the plan! I better get The Complicator on alert to have his bat mobile ready for Friday night, as it's time to turn the moody blues into some moody grooving with my new shoes or rather boots (you know what I mean!)

Moody Girl Out.

Foolish Heart, Stop & Start

Flashback (Moody Girl Style)

It was February 2009 and the plan was to spend the entire day/evening with The Complicator on Valentine’s Day. I dressed up for the occasion and wore a lovely red ruffle chiffon top with a crushed velvet chocolate brown skirt, paired with my tall, sleek toffee leather boots. I had a great hair day, smooth with just enough body for that flirty look, with my killer red lipstick, gold accessories, dark glasses and my wool winter coat for this particularly cold but sunny day. The Complicator picked me up in his new Mercedes and we drove around the city. He said he wanted to surprise me and I was super excited, since surprises are so few and far between with him. My heart was filled with hope until we arrived at The Gladstone for The Erotic Arts and Crafts Fair.  I reluctantly got out of the car at The Complicator’s insistence (my heart sank), but I went along with it and tried to feign interest in the amateur arts & crafts created in the name of love or rather sex. I mean it would be a fun thing to do if it was your first year together on V Day or if you’re a hipster with a $20 budget for Valentine’s Day. The Complicator insisted on buying me my V Day presents from there, and I ended up with an extra, extra small lime green shirt (that was tight back then) with a red dragon on it and a pair of fuzzy red handcuffs (that broke as soon as we got to the car), oh wait there was a feather tickler too. I thought to myself, great surprise, what’s next or is this it?

After frequenting a few art galleries that had nothing to do with me on this particular occasion, I was wondering if the surprise was coming up. As the day turned into evening, I sadly realized that The Complicator failed to make dinner reservations on Valentine’s Day. I remember stopping at a few places and being told that the restaurant was completely booked, how embarrassing. The surprises kept on coming! If only The Complicator had put just a little thought into it! Anyway, my hunger pangs were increasing as we continued to drive around. When my hunger grumbles turned into loud growls and I couldn’t take it anymore, I told The Complicator that it be would be okay with me to go to a familiar place where we would be sure to get a seat. Our friend who owns Sambuca and (now) Valens had opened up a place in the village and I figured since we were close by, why not drop by to see the new space, Sambuca on Church. By the time we arrived at the restaurant, there was a massive line up outside and full to the max on the inside. Surprise! I was wrong! The Complicator started getting visibly agitated so I had no choice but to take control. I walked up to the front of the line and told the hostess to let Kandar, (the owner) know that The Complicator and I were here for dinner and would really appreciate a table. I was quite pleased with myself and was hoping for a nod of approval from The Complicator, instead I got scolded, “I can’t believe you just did that”. After a few minutes the hostess returned and showed us to our table. I walked in with my head up high and he looked utterly embarrassed.

Once we were comfortably seated, I looked around to see how other women were dressed, (since I looked marvellous), then it occurred to me that I was the only woman in the restaurant and instead was getting a few jealous looks from other men. Did I mention that Sambuca on Church is located in the gay village? Regardless, we had an unconventional Valentine’s Day. It’s kind of funny when I think about it now. Hey at least we had dinner and it was a fantastic dinner. I playfully said to The Complicator, “You didn’t wish me Happy Valentine’s Day”, and he quickly muttered it to me, over the blaring music at the restaurant. I thought to myself, “Yep, eat your heart out men, this fool is with me”. J

While we were driving around after dinner, I drifted into my own thoughts while listening to the enchanting sounds of Nicola Conte’s Rituals. I was thinking to myself is it too much to ask for the person you’re with to articulate how they feel about you even if it seems redundant. I wasn’t expecting a present from Tiffany & Co. or to be whisked away for a romantic weekend (although I would have been very impressed). All I really wanted was to hear some heartfelt words.  When I checked my phone, I saw that I had a voicemail message from Grant Bedford, our mutual friend (who just happens to be dreamy). Anyway, he had received the musical birthday card that I had sent him and was genuinely touched that I remembered his birthday. I had written a note in the card telling him that Thievery Corporation was playing later in the month and that he should also come. In the message to me, he confirmed that he would be there. At the end of the message, in his deep voice he said, “Oh, um by the way, Happy Valentine’s Day” and my heart melted and a gigantic grin took over my face, as I drifted further into my thoughts.

Later I found out that Grant Bedford didn’t even know who Thievery Corporation was, but came to the show anyway. Hmmm, interesting! (Grant Bedford and I went to the show together that night, but hey that’s another blog). By the way, I saved that particular voicemail message :) Sometimes it’s not always about who says Happy Valentine’s Day, but rather how it’s said that makes all the difference!

Moody Girl Out.

Happily Never After

When a super couple like Seal and Heidi Klum can't make it after seven years of marriage. What possible hope do the rest of us have in the real world? After all this was a seemingly "perfect" couple on the outside who seemed to have so much fun together and renewed their wedding vows every year. They seemed so in-sync with each other, with love oozing from their pores. They had it all, beauty, talent, multiple homes, an abundance of wealth, jet setting around the world with their celebrity friends and they shared a whole bunch of children. So if this couple is ending things, what chance do us mere mortals have at a really fulfilling relationship on planet earth?

It got me thinking of my own relationship with The Complicator, after being together for more than a decade, are we really together in the real sense of the word? He has his own house and I have my own place. We have separate lives and come together when we need to or rather when we want to. It got me thinking about what we really share. We don't share real estate, children or stuff, so do experiences and memories count? The reason I dubbed him The Complicator for my blogs is that he simply complicates things without realizing it or does he do this deliberately to keep me stranded in time, or stuck in a loop? Some would say that this is the ideal relationship for the 21st century, we have an advantage with our non fat relationship without the usual day to day drudgery that tends to bring some couples down after a long time. We have funny moments together and can act like silly kids when we're alone. Of course this is contrasted by my moody moments and The Complicator's short fuse. Our individual homes protect us from each other when we get on each other's nerves and serves as a safe haven when we need to be alone to recharge. This is my reality, it's far from perfect, maybe even flawed depending on the opinion but we're still together - separate but together.

My friend Jenny and her partner George have been together for over fifteen years, (she met him when she was very young). When you see them together, they seem completely different from one another. It has nothing to with their cultural backgrounds, Jenny is of Chinese descent and George is eastern European. Jenny has a lot of testosterone and is the opposite of feminine. She loves to dress in jeans, T-shirts, biker boots, (all the time) and doesn't believe in styling her hair and wearing make up. Jenny can be loud and abrasive at times and is a lot of fun to be around. She is fascinated with me and Thalia (we're all friends), she calls us "girly girls". George is quiet, serious and strong. He tends to get into long winded conversations with anyone who will listen. I've never seem him laugh at any jokes and he always looks slightly puzzled or slightly amused by the rest of us while secretly judging us. But for some reason these two stick it out together. They are clearly opposites and Jenny gets annoyed by George a lot, but there is love beneath the surface.

My friend Shabana and her husband Lou are not only odd people individually, but are even more peculiar as a couple. They rarely venture out together with other couples and tend to spend a lot of time together when Lou is in town (he travels a lot). I've known Shabana for a really long time and over the years, she's gone from cool to just fool, she's a self proclaimed nerd. I don't have much to say about her husband Lou as I've seen him a total of five times since they've been married (including their wedding). When I have seen Lou at their house, he gives off a possessive, controlling vibe, with a side order of repressed anger. Together they're just a weird couple who appear to live very different lives under the guise of marriage. Neither one really gets what the other one is about (or doesn't care). When Shabana isn't hiding under a rock, she ventures out sans Lou (when he's out of town). Being around them is extremely uncomfortable as their conversations are laced with sharp barbs at one another. Some how this strange couple are still together and I'm not sure about love but there is like between the two.

Thalia and her husband Jared...actually if I analyze their marriage in print Thalia will kill me... Love comes in all forms and shapes, it's not perfect like it's made out to be by magazines about celebrities or famous people. No-one really knows what goes on behind closed doors. Love doesn't always meet our expectations and can often be filled with disappointment. However, every time I hear one of my favourite singers Jose James croon effortlessly in the sublimely romantic song Love (like right now), it fills my heart with hope and what else L.O.V.E. :)

Moody Girl Out.

The Flu Fighters

Well January started off with a bang in terms of renewed hope, energy and optimism for the upcoming year. Then out of the blue, the cold/flu took everyone in my path down including me. Yeah, the flu shot, supplements, lots of sleep and a healthy diet didn't help. Even my one workout of the month didn't prevent me from getting sick. I was feeling unusually upbeat for the month of January, that even the dull, grey skies  and the frigid temperatures couldn't hinder my spirit. Well that was short lived...

A couple of weeks ago after feeling great at the end of the week, I woke up one Saturday morning with a tickle in my throat, I did everything I could to stop this from becoming more than a tickle, but deep down I knew it was going to take me down eventually. Later that evening I had dinner plans to celebrate my best gal pal Lily's birthday and had been looking forward to it all week. We both dressed up and had a fantastic dinner at Sambuca (my other favourite restaurant). For a few hours, I was able to trick my brain into believing that the tickle in my throat wasn't there.

By Monday I was down, I had all the artillery needed to combat this virus, chicken soup, kleenex, pajamas, my fluffy robe, water, flat ginger ale and Ibuprofen. I was thinking so much for my dynamic January plans. I had to cancel all my plans for later in the week, dinner with my friend Isabella - turns out she was sick and so were her kids. Had to cancel with my friend Mariya - she was sick too. My sister Thalia and her husband Jared were sick and were both working from home. So not only were they fighting a virus but eventually with each other over trivial things, Thalia felt compelled to text me a play by play:

Text message 1 -  "So sick, weak and tired, but am working on the computer".
Text message 2 - "Coughing and sneezing for hours, need bread, so sick but have so much work to do".
Text message 3 - "Jared left all the mugs on the coffee table and made a mess in the kitchen :( ".
Text message 4 - "So tired, don't have the energy to make tea, but have so much work to do. You'd think just once Jared would baby me a bit, need TLC".

These types of texts continued for about a week, my text response was the same every time, "Aww too bad honey, hope you feel better soon. I'm sick too, look and feel like hell."

During the middle of the week, The Complicator brought me some cold medicine at my request that came complete with an unsolicited pep talk at the most inopportune time about how I was being a "little puppy" and that I was actually fine. The Complicator said, "Why are your eyes red?" I replied, "Er, because I'm sick, hence the request for the cold meds". I was then told to toughen up. He then started nattering about how I should wear a plastic garbage bag and start running on the treadmill. I may have been on drugs but he was clearly delusional. Some how he seemed to magically ignore the sneezing, the coughing and me sprawled out on the couch in a drug induced coma. No TLC, just tough love is what I got, I couldn't wait for him to leave so that I could rest without the extra chatter.

My mum was calling me every hour on the hour to make sure I wasn't dead, which was comforting and  annoying at the same time. When I would reluctantly answer the phone, I could hear my dad yelling in the background, "Why didn't she get the flu shot, I told her to get the flu shot". I softly whispered, "Mum, can you tell Dad I did get the flu shot".

Just as I got my mum off the phone (again), I mistakenly answered the phone thinking it was my mum calling back and it turned out to be my friend Professor Langley Tate (who has a nauseatingly soft spot for me). I had been avoiding his calls for a few weeks, and was texting him knowing full well he doesn't know how to text. Professor Langley Tate and I used to work together eons ago (before he was a professor) and have been friends ever since. He seems to be fascinated with everything I do, say, write, read and I'm the portal for his otherwise safe existence. I can make him laugh easily about anything and everything, sometimes even cheekily poking fun at his "academic comments" which he is clearly oblivious to. He is a nice person, but sometimes gets on my nerves.

This was a bit of our conversation:

Professor Langley Tate: "What's been going on, tell me everything".

Me: "Well, as you can probably tell I'm sick, (cough, cough, sneeze, sneeze, cough)".

Professor Langley Tate: "Well you just need a dose of Dr. Tate's chicken soup. I'll just have to stop by with some".

Me: "No thanks, I already made some and The Complicator has been checking in on me".

Professor Langley Tate: "Wow, you make your own chicken soup too? I would love to try your chicken soup sometime".

Me (Perturbed): "I don't crave chicken soup on a regular basis Langley, I only make it for myself when I'm sick, the only other person I make chicken soup for is Thalia".

Professor Langley Tate: "I was really hoping to see you over the holidays".

Me (Annoyed): "Langley, I barely had time to come up for air with all the family get togethers, I'll see you in the spring, I have to catch up with some of my other friends first".

When I finally got Professor Langley Tate off the phone, I put my phone on silent, took my cold medicine, applied Vicks on my throat and chest (that's the best), used my menthol inhaler, took my Ibuprofen and tried to rest. I figured answering the phone was just counter productive to my recovery.

After a few days, once I was back to my cheerful moody self, I decided to weigh myself. If anything had come out of this awful week, it had to be weight loss right? Wrong! Apparently, I was a few pounds up. Drats! Perhaps a little too much bread with my chicken soup!

Moody Girl Out.

It's Not Me, It's You!

The end of the year is upon us my dear readers, and this blog is dedicated specifically to all the people in my life, who made it extra special this past year. I thought 2010 was tough, but 2011 kicked my butt. So here is some what of a love letter directed towards the nearest and dearest (there wasn't enough room for everyone). These select group of people continue to make my life what it is - the good, the bad, and the absurd. I have a nice glass of Apple Vodka, thanks to Thalia. So let it begin... as it's a good soul cleanse for me :)

The Complicator (My Special Someone)

Another year has passed and thank you for minimizing my birthday yet again, especially after the hellish year I had. Thank you for refusing to verbally acknowledge our time together and what our relationship means in the grand scheme of things, where we are going etc. Just once, I wish you you would take a soulful interest in me and actually ask me what I want instead of telling me what you think I need. Thank you also for giving me fry pans on my birthday when I was already feeling down, because nothing cheers a girl up like getting a pair of fry pans on her birthday! Thank you for making us a nice New Year's Eve dinner, and then quickly disappearing into the other room to check on Ebay (which you've been on since yesterday), because at the end of the year, what's really important, is that you close the bid on the seven hundredth pair of speakers that you don't need. Instead, I wish we were dancing to the beautiful, chilled out tunes playing in the background. Anyway, thank you for making brownies at my request. I love you but you drive me crazy.

My Darling Family (Sans Thalia)

Thank you for all your love and support (especially my mum) this past year. Thank you also for continuing to drive me bonkers, just when I think I can't take any more idiotic short term decisions that affect all of us long term. Thank you for the non stop guilt trips when I don't come through for you on every single request when I'm already drained mentally and physically. Thank you for filling up my year with your doctors appointments and singling me out of three siblings to drive you to every one of them in spite of my own schedule - work and social, because of course, that doesn't ever matter. Also thank you for calling on me at any time of the day and for looking at me as your own personal "Crisis Management Centre". Thank you for making a lovely birthday dinner in my honour and then proceeding to get into silly arguments and screaming matches with one another like George's family in Seinfeld. I love you all dearly, but please, give it a rest!

Karina (My Russian Friend)


Thank you for sucking up my time all year round about your minuscule problems that seem so big in your tiny head, any time you see me, regardless of the occasion - e.g. my graduation dinner, Mariya's birthday dinner, girls' night out etc. Thank you for making anything and everything about you, always. Thank you for monopolizing my time on the phone with your never ending slew of problems, "What should I do, blah, blah, blah?" Thank you for keeping "your close friends" out of the loop of every important decision you've ever made, such as buying a condo, going to Miami for the weekend without even a word to us for fear of "any bad luck". And of course pushing all your girlfriends aside the moment you're back with your on again, off again, who gives a s--t boyfriend, Flavio who is not French (like you keep introducing him), but actually Portuguese, and apparently appears to be from another century, with his narrow minded thoughts about women! Thank you for never bothering to check up on me, to see how I'm doing from time to time. But rest assured, when things falter between you and Flavio, I'll be here for you to listen (again) and coordinate another girls' night out, because that's what friends do.

Enough said (for now)...It's time to get this party started.
Happy New Year People!

Moody Girl Out.

Dreamers' Reality

Sometimes great expectations can turn into low expectations without even realizing it. Hopes and dreams can suddenly be justified as fantasy by naysayers. What's wrong with believing in a little magic from time to time. All it takes is one swift wave of the proverbial magic wand to change your perspective in a mundane world, to put you on the track to believing again. What a shame to lose that child like quality brought out around sentimental holidays, especially around Christmas, only to be unconsciously squashed by a realist. What would life be like without the dreamers of the world?

Recently there was a funny yet memorable episode on the comedy Modern Family about the dreamers versus the realists. The episode concluded with the adorable character of Cam saying, "Realists keep dreamers from soaring too close to the sun". "Without dreamers, realists would never get off the ground". I love that line, it's so true and has stayed with me since watching the episode.Yes, realists have their place in the world and keep the dreamers grounded. But what if some realists over time, in an effort to keep the dreamers in their life grounded, inadvertently push you underground making it hard to breathe let alone dream. How do the dreamers retain their child like magical quality then? Is it time for a vacation, a place to escape under the warm sun and rejuvenate. Or disappear to a local, favourite haunt where you can elude your troubles for one night with a strong drink and a change of ambiance to lift your spirits.

In a relationship, the ability to dream can be an important motivator, both together and separately, but when the dreaming dissolves on every level, it truly is sad. Sure you can go through the motions of day to day living, while secretly feeling numb inside. When there is nothing to look forward to in a relationship, then what? Or, are relationships about moments of happiness like everything else in life? After watching the most recent episode of Once Upon a Time, I wondered if my heart had been placed in a box like the Evil Queen/Regina did to prevent The Huntsman/Sheriff Graham from feeling anything and eventually crushed his heart in the present world, just as he felt something when he kissed Emma. It was a good episode, and I was (briefly) reminded of how much I miss my favourite show Lost so much. Watching the brilliant (and sometimes frustrating) Lost, allowed me to disappear into the different worlds of the characters and intersecting story lines, where characters were trying to escape their past, redo their lives, correct their past mistakes, get out of purgatory (so many themes etc). It makes you wonder, what if we are re-living our lives in a different world of some sort, where either we are trying to right a wrong done from another time/space or where we had the ability to alter our choices in a parallel world and carve a new destiny for ourselves like in the film Sliding Doors (I love that film). Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I had taken another path or could live two lives simultaneously until I could decide which one was best.

I know it's not too late to change my path in life, but I feel I need some additional inspiration, something magical like stardust, or a shining star to guide me through the dense fog of uncertainty. After all it's easier to live a life of the safe and familiar than the exciting and possibly rewarding prospect of the unknown. There's a great line in Fiona Apple's song called Sleep to Dream, "I got my feet on the ground and I don't sleep to dream." Ah, it seems that I'm the opposite, as I only sleep to dream!

Moody Girl Out.

Debt Becomes Her

With Xmas just around the corner, nothing gives me more displeasure than not being able to shop for family and friends but most of all myself. There's nothing like succumbing to the pressures of advertising and buying a sparkly gift for yourself that will put a smile on your face for years to come, er okay rather weeks to come. I buy something for someone else and then I buy something for myself that's how it's always been. This year has been a completely different story. With the cost of everything going up, up and away, I've had to tighten the purse strings for extra things like shopping :( Let's face it everything has gone up, condo fees, property taxes, regular taxes, gas, food - everything! Wages don't necessarily go up to reflect the current increase in everything which is really crappy. 

I'm the opposite of the expression "Good on Paper". I look great when you see me in person. I make an excellent first, second, third impression to infinity - always, that is until I have to go into a bank for a simple thing like an increase to my overdraft. You walk in all confident and they make you sit and wait in this little office, while they print out a long list of all your transactions and then ask you questions that they very well know the answers to, simply to make you feel bad when you're caught in a lie. Banker, "What is your current salary?"  Me, "I make er $75K a year".  Banker, "It says here that you made a monthly deposit of $700 last month". Then they show you the long list and you look at the "Banking Specialist" with a confused look and say, "That's not me, there must be some mistake". "Did I tell you that I'm the opposite of good on paper?"

So here's the crux of the situation. When you take two years off from the work place (because the company you worked for was suddenly sold), you tell yourself that the universe is telling you that now is the time to finally finish that damn degree, as that will help in securing an even better job. So you go full throttle with the task of completing a Liberal Arts degree you started in 2001 (part time), and are over the moon when you finally graduate in the spring of 2011. But wait, as it turns out this actually guarantees nothing in the market place apart from personal satisfaction. Apparently employers don't give a crap about whether you have transferable skills and an Arts degree to back it up with. So forget about finding your "dream job", it basically comes down to anything and everything that pays, because the bills don't take a hike just because you don't have the funds. So then when your uncle asks you why you didn't become a lawyer, you say, "Let's see, because it took 10 years to get my undergraduate degree on a part time basis, while I worked full time and paid for it on my own". In your head, you give yourself a window of "I'll make it big at 25", when that doesn't happen, you tell yourself 30, when that doesn't happen, then it's 35, well you get the gist. So now you convince yourself that a steady job with health benefits and a small monthly allowance for clothes, or entertainment or groceries will suffice.

People with money often say to people without money, "All you ever think about is money". A cold and detached statement made by rich people who are completely unaware of the struggles that ordinary mortals have to endure on a daily, weekly, monthly basis. It's true that most of us do live pay cheque to pay cheque to make ends meet. It's precisely for this reason that our credit cards & lines of credit have become our closest friend. During this blissful time, when everything is a haze, credit cards seem to understand us and are there for us. It's as if a spell has been cast to muddle the reality of what's actually happening, but we don't question it and blindly pay the crazy interest until we can't. When we need to feel better about ourselves, we buy a lipstick, a dress, a pair of shoes.  My Russian friend Karina always says, "I hate living alone". (it's only been a year). "After I'm done paying my mortgage and all my bills, I barely have anything left to eat". After a 5 minute pause, "Did you see my new Prada shoes?" Me, "I thought you just said...?". Karina, "I had to have them, it's an investment for $1,000, I got them on my credit line".

Sometimes, credit cards serve as a pseudo income during a time of need, loss of a job, a car emergency, a home emergency, or to compensate for the shortfall of bills for the month. Or sometimes, it's just simply to feel better about ourselves and to cheer ourselves up temporarily. For me, shopping is the ultimate high, I'm euphoric when I've had some good shopping & great deals, and then I crash... I never understood that when you don't need a credit card or an increase to the card, that's when it's automatically offered by the credit card companies and banks. And, when you desperately need an increase to get you through a crisis, the door is completely shut. How is this fair, that is the question? Money doesn't grow on trees, but money does make the world go round. 

Moody Girl Out.