remember when PhotoBooth sessions were like, the best thing since sliced bread?

well, I’m bringing them back. For today. Because I’ve always been such a trendsetter, and I love anything vintage. Just kidding. It’s really because I’m super awkward.

also, does the face that I’m making in the second picture count as the dreaded “duck face”? Dear God, I pray not. In any case, I was hoping to go in the direction of “badass hipster” (it’s one of my goals in life. Please don’t judge).

whatever. The whole point of this post is, OH MY GOD I HAVE OMBRE HAIR. I finally did something fun and exciting to my hair! I mean, the other day I had such a hair crisis (#firstworldproblems, yes). I was like, my hair has always been so horribly boring (hair extensions don’t count. Although I do have a couple of funny stories about my fake hair. Such as my friend Erika’s mom finding them in Erika’s drawer and thinking Erika was hiding some sort of animal from her. So awkward. Or, my hair extensions going off as I passed through airport security. That was really weird. And kind of tough to explain to an officer that clearly had no sense of humor).

also, can we discuss my hairstylist Theresa? She’s like my therapist. I told her not to go too crazy with the ombre, and she just says, “Um, have you seen my hair? I have a random pink streak in it. I’m not sure if I’m the right person for you.”

good point.

however, I am in love with my hair and even more in love with the fact that Theresa dyed my extensions.

p.s. yes, the lighting sucks. It’s PhotoBooth. It’s vintage. SORRY.

{photos of my friend Julie that I shot for a photography class project. She is currently accepting modeling jobs at Vogue, Elle, and the like. Just saying. Also, I bought her those awesome cocktail rings. Just saying.}

things I learned this weekend that I should’ve learned a long time ago but I didn’t because I’m stupid and stubborn:

{1} Crohn’s disease is not a joke. This week was a huge wake up call for me. I have to eat well, which means I will be having a very organic and sober 21st birthday this Friday.

{but if someone bakes me vegan cupcakes, I’m sure I’ll still be a very happy camper.}

{2} Crohn’s disease is not a joke.

{3} Crohn’s disease is not a joke.

this week I will:

{1} try not to die.

{2} turn 21.

{3} get ombre hair.

…

the end.

{Marshall St.}

first of all, can I just say that I am still alive? But that work, school, and more work are swallowing me whole?

{pshh…which would be the reason my Etsy shop still isn’t up yet. I swear to all the Greek gods that I will put it up as soon as I have a spare minute or two…}

and can I just say that I am so incredibly proud of everyone in my life that is working hard everyday to make his or her dreams come true? Mike, Ariela, Alyssa, Alex, and Meg (extra love to you Meg…well, extra love to Mike today too because he just got some amazing news, but extra love to Meg for being amazing and helping a homegirl out. And by homegirl, I mean yours truly), I am so proud of all of you it’s ridiculous. You inspire me every single day.

I guess then I should say that I’m super proud of myself too, but I still can’t quite get my head around the whole being-proud-of-yourself concept.

but I should be proud, because I am finally really, really doing the thing that I have dreamed about for years (ever since I was 10 and I would create a gymnastics “magazine” on Word using tons and tons of Clipart and made up interviews of made up gymnasts, then I would print it out using my parents’  printer and subsequently waste all their color ink, and finally I would slip it under my sister’s bedroom door every month…she was my sole subscriber, after all).

and also, I should be proud because even though I haven’t had time to open up my Etsy shop, I’ve already gotten a few emails requesting customized illustrations…me? People want to buy my stuff? I just do this for fun!

{and also I sort of think I kind of suck.}

and, I got an amazing job in which I am required to interview an old Slovakian lady about her experiences growing up in a Communist nation…and you guys know how I am about anything even remotely related to Russia. And if you don’t know, you clearly are visiting my blog for the first time, because all I do is rant about how much I love Russia, which no, I’ve never been to.

I’ll stop now, before it sounds like I’m bragging. Because I’m not. I’m just so proud of everyone. I love life. I love the people in my life.

{but really, I may or may not be avoiding a little sociology paper that has yet to be written.}

p.s. I apologize for being so cryptic. But you know, secrets are kind of fun.

here’s a little story: I used to really hate Valentine’s Day.

I mean, admit it. If you’re single, it’s the worst. It’s also the worst when that guy you have been stupidly crushing on for four years sends one of your best friends, not you, flowers and chocolate.

{don’t worry, soon enough I realized he was kind of a douche. Actually, not soon enough. So many wasted tears…wow, I was so dumb in high school}

but then, I met Mike.

and before you all go running in the other direction, I swear this isn’t another cheesy “oh my God I found true love forever and ever” post (besides, I can’t have cheese. It hurts my stomach. I’m really bitter about it).

anyway, so I met Mike. And a lightbulb went off in my head: aha! I have a boyfriend! It’s Valentine’s Day! He has a moral obligation to get me flowers!

let me explain. Growing up, my mother had some sort of strange personal vendetta (God, don’t you just love that word?) against flowers (as she did with many other things, I must admit). So, unlike my friends, I never got flowers as a kid. Ever. Not even after my first gymnastics competition, even though all the other girls did.

{actually, my mom didn’t even show up to my first gymnastics competition. Still bitter about this, too. Eek, I apologize for all the bitterness.}

so since Mike is my first serious boyfriend ever, I force him to get me flowers all the time. Just ask him.

we’ll be walking down the street, or along the aisles of Price Chopper or Walmart or whatever, and I’ll say, “Babe, just so you know, they sell flowers here. Just so you know.”

so then he says, “I can’t get you flowers anymore because now it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“I don’t care. Get me flowers.”

I’m kind of annoying that way.

unfortunately I just realized that we won’t be spending Valentine’s together this year, so guess what? No flowers for me.

so I kind of hate Valentine’s Day again.

never mind. Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you! I hope you get lots and lots of flowers (and chocolate).

p.s. enter this giveaway at Jenni’s blog! You could win a custom fashion illustration by yours truly…and a lot of other cool stuff.

{this is just some proof that Justin Bobby is a deadbeat father. We tried to get him to smell his puppies, but all he wanted to do was run away…clearly we didn’t raise him right}

+ my new room! Which is almost almost done.

+ a teeny request…

I feel kind of awkward making any “requests.”

But I’m worried about my little sister. Will you please keep her in your thoughts? I love her so much.

…

tonight I met Papi’s girlfriend, her son, and her son’s girlfriend (you still following?).

we had a nice dinner where I ate stuff that is bad for me, so now my stomach hurts.

but anyway, we all laughed a lot. It’s nice, this new meaning that I have for “family.”

I go back to Syracuse tomorrow. Shortest trip home ever.

{shot during photo class. I love my professor. I am sure he is the only professor in the world that doesn’t mind the click of the shutter going off a million times during his lecture…}

the good:

{1} our photo assignment for next week is about depth of field. Yes, I am the geek that gets super excited over an assignment (you should see how I get about my fashion studio. Just kidding. You already know, because I love illustrating so much that I’ve decided to open up an Etsy shop. That’s kind of obnoxious, now that I think of it). But, really, depth of field is kind of my favorite thing ever (after Nutella, Soviet gymnasts, evil eyes and hamsas, Jennifer Aniston, and the like).

{2} Justin Bobby is a father. And I am a proud puppy grandma.

{3} my Chinese roommate has a new Chinese boyfriend, and although he doesn’t speak English, I totally think he’s a keeper because he bought her a ginormous bouquet of flowers, and now our apartment smells just heavenly. It’s awesome.

{4} The bookstore sells Skippy Natural peanut butter. This is a big deal to me (it’s the little things in life, friends).

{5} I go home* tomorrow! Papi and Ariela are moving into a new apartment, because, in my little Buddhist sister’s words, “our house has bad vibes.”**

*yes, Costa Rica.

**it totally does.

{6} Do you know what this means? I GET TO DECORATE MY NEW ROOM. WITH A TURQUOISE VINTAGE TYPEWRITER I GOT FROM ETSY. Sorry for the internet yelling. I’m excited.

{7} I had a dream that I was Rachel Greene from Friends. I forgave Ross way sooner than she did. I mean, did we really have to wait like a million seasons for them to get back together?

And am I really still discussing the intricacies of Friends in 2012?

the bad:

{1} I have a horrible fever, and I never get fevers. Not even when I had appendicitis. In fact, before I had my appendix taken out, I had to fake throw up because otherwise the middle school nurse wouldn’t believe me that, yes, it really was that bad (as it turned out, I had Cuban amoeba – amoebas? amoebi? – in my appendix. We’ve gone over this one before. My body does bizarre things).

{2} I couldn’t go to class today. Which to most wouldn’t be a bad thing, but I’m an obnoxious overachiever.

I did go to my magazine editing class, but I felt so dizzy that I swear my eyes were glazing over. I mean, my professor was all like, “Debbie go to sleep before you die.”*

*I’m paraphrasing.

{3} Pharaoh is still not as fat as Tapper’s fish, and that makes me one jealous fish mom. I love fat things.

{4} Typing this post is making me feel nauseated, but I already slept for like six hours, so I am not sure what else to do.

{5} my roommate knocked on my door this morning because she thought I was dead. That can’t be a good thing.

{6} I have a flight at 6 a.m. tomorrow. Blech.

{7} waiting for an email (or, like ten) is the most excruciating thing in the world. I mean, not really. But yeah.

{8} my laptop kicked the bucket. But then it revived.

{Hello. This is me this summer at the Jersey Shore. Yes, the one and only. I am wearing sunglasses that I got for free at a Syracuse basketball game. You know.}

Meesch tagged me to do a little survey…

and since I enjoy procrastinating (actually, that’s a lie. I am the most obnoxious type-A personality you will ever meet. I need to get everything done. NOW.)

I thought, why not?

{1} when and why did you start blogging?

I’ve blogged for as long as I can remember (yeah, I was that loser kid with a LiveJournal in middle school). When I got to college, I sort of quit. But I started “debbiecutieface” back up again this summer, when things simply weren’t going my way. I needed a creative outlet to express myself.

{2} what do your friends and family think about your blog?

my sister says it’s the only way to catch up with me because I never talk to her (lies. She just never gets on Facebook). My dad doesn’t have time to read a silly old blog. My boyfriend tries to correct my grammar and spelling, and then I tell him that he’s wrong and he should stick to science (just kidding. That only happened once. He think it’s cool. But he doesn’t get why people follow blogs by people they don’t know. It’s because we’re all stalkers, DUH. And we want each others’ lives. And clothes). Some of my friends read my blog pretty regularly (Julie!), some don’t. I think most people don’t really have an opinion on it, to be honest.

{3} what’s your favorite trend for spring 2012?

psh. I don’t do trends. Unless they involve ethnic influences and turquoise.

my favorite clothes and jewelry are either hamsas and evil eyes (not a trend – at least not until very recently. And it annoys me that they are now a trend. #brat) or my vintage USSR Olympic jacket (I need a Russia intervention, okay?).

{4} how much time do you invest in your blog?

it depends. When I’m busy with school and work – zero, zilch, nada. When I’m bored, probably way more time than I should.

{5} who takes the photos on your blog?

yours truly.

unless it’s a picture of me. Then whoever was with me at the time, I suppose.

{6} sweet or savory?

my sweet tooth is a monster. Stacy McGill would die if she ever took one measly glance at me (Babysitters Club reference? Yes? Anyone?).

{7} what’s your favorite make-up brand?

not exactly a make-up brand, but I love Burt’s Bees. And Clinique products.

{8} do you have any pets?

yeah. A monster called Justin Bobby and another monster called Mikos. And by “monster,” I mean dogs.

I also have a Pharaoh. A “Pharaoh” is a beta fish that refuses to die. Even when I forget to feed him.

Someone call Animal Control.

{9} what’s your favorite city to go shopping?

why, New York City, of course.

or the big world wide web.

{okay, that’s not a city}

or anywhere in Greece.

{evil eyes galore, baby}

{10} what makes you happy right now?

illustrating. Photographing. Writing. Friends. The little one (sister, I mean). Papi. The strange things my Chinese roommate does (STRANGE, I tell you). My amazing friends. And Mike, of course.

p.s. I always feel like a big jerk if I tag anyone because then I’m leaving others out.

p.p.s. if I don’t comment on your blog anymore and I used to, it’s because Blogger seems to believe I am not a real human and won’t let me pass the word verification test. Either that or I need to retake the first grade.

{took this in photo lab. Our assignment was to capture the word “write.” And here I am, writing.}

there is someone in my life that constantly likes to bring up her eating disordered past – and mine, too.

it’s so irritating to me.

this is not an “eating disorder recovery” blog. Or even an “eating disorder” blog. I’ve had both of those in the past, and now I know that they did me more harm than good.

constantly thinking about your eating disorder – past or present – is not good for you. Plain and simple. It feeds into the obsession. And for this reason, I absolutely despise eating disorder blogs, whether they are recovery oriented or not. If you need to vent, keep a journal.

however, I feel that this is something that I need to address, because this girl is (unknowingly, I hope) seriously affecting me. I cannot cut ties with this girl, though, and I am not sure I necessarily want to.

I’ve been through hell and back. I do not say this because I want you to feel sorry for me. I don’t. Eating disorders are an illness, yes, and a deadly one at that, but I made my own choices that led me down a very dangerous path. I am lucky to be where I am today. No one should feel sorry for me.

x or x* pounds…what difference does it make, really, when you are unhappy with yourself?

{*numbers x’ed out because I know some eating disordered and former eating disordered girls read this, and numbers are a huge trigger to many, including myself}

it really all started innocently enough. It always does. Erika and I wanted to diet because our school was going on a beach trip. Totally normal, no?

forget the fact that a sexual molestation, a verbally and emotionally abusive mother, and years of crappy self-esteem were boiling under the surface. My surface.

as high school girls do, Erika began to half-ass her diet. I didn’t. I’m a perfectionist by nature and by circumstance. I want everything and anything to be under my control. If I do something, I do it right.

or wrong.

I could’ve killed myself.

sometimes I wonder, you know, if all the damage that I did can be undone. Physically and mentally.

because when this girl glorifies her anorectic** days – I feel a tinge of regret. Like wow, maybe I failed my eating disorder. Maybe I could’ve gone even thinner. Maybe life would be more perfect if I only lost five more pounds…

{**for the love of God, it’s “anorectic,” not “anorexic.” Grammar Nazi.}

I’m sick of this. I don’t need to weigh myself. I don’t need to wish myself five pounds thinner.

I don’t like the way I look. But I also know for a fact that my vision is completely distorted, so fighting my body will really get me nowhere.

one thing I love about Mike is that he’s taught me that happiness is in no way directly correlated to weight. I don’t think I ever believed this until I got to experience it with him. This is not what my family taught me.

so there. I am thin and fit, even if I don’t see it. And if I wasn’t thin and fit, I could sure as hell be happy. In the end, that’s what I really care about. I want to be happy.

so when this girl starts harping on me about my weight, and my anorexia, and my diet – which she will undoubtedly do – I refuse to let it affect me, even in the slightest.

because I’ll be damned if I ever relapse again.

I’ve been making these nonstop since yesterday (if you follow me on instagram, you know this. By the way – it’s @debbiele03). Probably because I’m borderline obsessive compulsive.

Etsy? Yes? I think so.

Can’t wait to show you!

Maybe I’ll make, like, 25 cents or something.

I took this photograph of two Indian students chatting and joking on Marshall Street for a photography project. I have no idea what they were talking about (well, obviously. I don’t speak Hindi), but they seemed to be having a blast.

I just love the look on their faces. So happy.

Whatever grade I get for this photo, I am just glad I shot it. You know?

{they were so excited that I shot this photo and told me to blast it all over the internets, so there you have it}